


Come Undone

by wir_sind_die_Jager



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Slavery, BDSM, F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Underage Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-06
Updated: 2013-12-16
Packaged: 2017-12-31 16:05:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 23,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1033633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wir_sind_die_Jager/pseuds/wir_sind_die_Jager
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Slaves among the landed gentry are not uncommon in these lands, in this time. Under the watchful eyes of their stern Overseer Levi and his team, the teenage slaves of noble born Erwin Smith not only work the land and run the household, but satisfy their solemn (yet undeniably benevolent) master's voyeuristic appetite. Compliant in their gilded captivity and routine, the slaves' relative peace is disrupted with Armin, the latest addition to the collection of motley misfits. His presence triggers a determination to dig deeper, look closer, and understand this bizarre world of carnality and deeply buried secrets. (Multi 3rd person POV; non-Titan infested SnK setting)</p><p>STATUS: ON HIATUS - NOT ABANDONED!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Blind

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfic is inspired by/fill for this SnK Kink prompt: http://snkkink.dreamwidth.org/2848.html?thread=3627808#cmt3627808
> 
> The 1st chapter/starter was written by Anon, posted with permission, and with Anon's permission, I have taken up the reins. Subsequent chapters will be 100% written by me, with Anon's blessing. The only alterations I made are the ages (I aged down a touch) and switching Irvin's name to Erwin. 
> 
> Beta Read by jean_huh_kirschnickerdoodle ~ please go read her fanfics and check her out on tumblr!
> 
> TRIGGERS: Please see the beginning of every chapter for trigger warnings!  
> This Chapter Contains: Dubcon, signs of physical abuse (not committed by any of the characters)
> 
> Future established pairings to pop up later in the story! It's also impossible to accurately tag all of the *sex only* pairings, considering the nature of the fanfic, so I tagged the 3 main established romantic/future romantic pairings. If you don't want to read the smut scene of a particularly pairing, just skim over it and continue on. I won't warn you when they pop up as I don't like to give away plot points. Thanks for understanding, I appreciate it.

"Oi, look."

Eren paused his work long enough to spare the speaker a glance. "What?"

The speaker, Jean, jerked his head toward the stable doors. "Looks like the master got more then just food at the market."

There's movement in the stall next to Eren as he straightens, setting down the hoof of the horse he was grooming. Mikasa's eye's meet his over the stall barrier, sharp and alert, and they both turn to the doors.

A group of four horses stands in the afternoon light, shadows stretching into the barn as they toss their heads, impatiently waiting for their riders to dismount. One horse, Eren notes, has one more rider then it did this morning. He can't see them well enough to make much out; he only knows the first rider because that's Mike's horse and the tall figure beside it is unmistakable.

Mike dismounts easily enough and turns back to the other rider. The smaller figure slides off, strangely limp, and Eren frowns as Mike, instead of setting them down, tucks them under his arm like a sack of grain.

The figure doesn't move.

Mikasa catches his eye and gives a small nod. They move at the same time, exiting their respective stalls and walking towards the group.

One rider dismounts with vigor, bouncing on her toes as she lands. Messy brown hair tied back from her face and goggles on her head, Hanji all but thrusts her reins into Mikasa's hand's. She chirrups a thanks and moves to stand beside Mike.

She peers down at the small person and clicks her tongue sympathetically. "Poor thing. They really did a did a number on him, huh?"

"Mm." The last rider, a large man with chiseled features and blonde hair, says. Eren steps forward to take the master's reins and Erwin hands them over with a nod of thanks. Reins in each hand, Eren gives them a light tug and the horses follow obediently. He turns slowly, deliberately passing Mike even though Mikasa has already taken the man's horse.

The boy looks tiny under Mike's arm, limp limbs not even brushing the floor. His hands are bound by rope, thin wrists rubbed red from the jostling ride, and his clothes are smudged with so much dirt Eren can't tell what their original color was. He can't see the boy's face, short golden locks falling like a curtain over it.

Mike turns to leave with the others and as light spills onto the small boy, Eren sees the pattern of bruises lining his arms like some kind of painting. It makes him grit his teeth.

"So?" Jean asks as he and Mikasa return, stepping out and taking one of the horses from Mikasa.

"He was unconscious," Mikasa answers as she leads the horse into its stall and starts taking off it's tack.

"And?"

"Small. Blonde." Eren shrugs and relieves Erwin's mare of her bridle; she tosses her head once before digging into her dinner. "Didn't get a really good look at him."

Jean leans over the stall barrier, his own horse already untacked and brushed. "Couldn't even see his face?" he asked, quirking one brow.

Eren shakes his head and lifts the saddle of the horse, setting it over the wall before grabbing a brush and starting on the mares coat. "Doesn't matter, the master probably won't be using him for a day or two. He seemed pretty beat up."

"Ah, another runt. He must have a thing for them. And blondes."

Mikasa rolls her eyes and Eren just gives a noncommittal grunt.

"Hey, either of you up tonight?"

"No." they both reply.

"Lucky."

"Why? Whose the master paired you with?" Eren questions. Finished with Erwin's mare, he exits the stall. Mikasa comes to stand beside him.

Jean snorts. "Sasha."

Eren bits back a chuckle and earns a smack from Mikasa. "She's not that bad."

"Bad, no. Exhausting, yes. Girl's got the stamina of a wild mustang," Jean grumbles.

"You're just used to Marco's coddling."

The other teen's face turns red and his indignant sputtering is drowned out by Eren's laughter.

* * *

 

It always amazes Eren how quickly news spreads through the slave quarters. By dinner, everyone knows master Erwin has bought a new slave, a young boy, and that he was in poor condition upon arrival.

Eren ignores the chatter around him, focusing instead on scarfing down his food like he's never eaten before. It's not that Erwin starves them, in fact he is very generous when it comes to the care of his slaves; but old habits die hard, so Eren makes sure his food is gone before he takes his eyes off his plate.

Mikasa is silent beside him, nibbling away at her own food. She's never had a large appetite and more then once Eren has had to urge her to clean her plate, even if that meant simply hiding it somewhere so they could come back for it later. That's not the case anymore, but he still encourages her to eat as much as she can.

When they finish, the two of them depart to their rooms. Each slave has his or her own room where they are allowed to do what they please. When they first came here, Eren and Mikasa had been put in separate rooms. In the first week, however, they had proceeded to cut a hole in the wall and hung a curtain over the window sized opening. When Erwin found out, rather then getting the punishment they expected, he had sent for a carpenter and had a door made (complete with a lock should one of them want to keep the other out at some point). This had been their first clue that life had decided they'd suffered enough.

Most of the time they simply left the door open, leaving them to wander back and forth between rooms. They'd sleep in the same bed (Eren's), another old habit, but one they didn't want to kick; it had a soothing affect on both of them.

* * *

The next day passes uneventfully. Jean arrives later in the afternoon, sluggish and sore; Eren makes a crack about coddling that gets him pushed out of the hayloft and ends up picking straw out his hair for the rest of the day.

Dinner comes and Eren is halway through his plate when a shadow falls over the table. The way Mikasa goes stiff beside him informs him who's there.

"You're on tonight, brat."

Levi, one of the slave masters, looks down at him, grey eyes flat and bored.

Eren blinks and glances at Mikasa before innocently (maybe) asking, "Which brat?"

If looks could kill, he'd be dead. Or at least severely injured. Levi stares at him, eyes narrowed into slits as they flicker briefly to Mikasa, who returns it in kind.

"You." A sharp flick between his eyes has Eren wincing as the man walks away without another word.

Eren sighs and returns to his food. "You been called yet?" he asks out of the corner of his mouth. Mikasa shakes her head. He swallows and reaches for his cup. "Don't stay up if I'm late."

He says it firmly, but knows she will anyway. He does the same for her.

* * *

 

He showers and debates for five minutes whether to wear a shirt or not. If he's been paired with someone like Reiner or Annie, the odds of it getting torn are high and he really doesn't like asking Mikasa to sew his clothes repeatedly (god forbid he ask for new ones; Erwin doesn't seem to mind, but Eren doesn't want to look needy). If he's with someone like Marco or Mina, then that won't be a problem.

It's only while muttering this to himself does he realize he was never informed of his partner for the night. Odd, as Erwin normally makes sure they know this information, but sometimes the master would rather they be surprised; so he brushes it off and has decided to go shirtless when there is a knock on his door.

Gunther greets him with a smile and escorts him to the chambers; a room Erwin made specifically for this purpose. Gunther leaves him at the doors, throwing a wink over his shoulder as he goes.

Eren raises his hand to knock, only to pause when he hears voices. They're muffled, so he can't hear what they're saying, and at least one voice is so soft he can't tell if they're even speaking. He hesitates, but he'd been told to come, so with a deep breath he knocks. The voices cease for a moment and then Erwin's deep "enter" is heard.

Eren pushes open the door and steps inside. The chambers are large and lavishly decorated with pillows and blankets strewn across a hollow dip in the floor. There is a second pair of doors across the room and in between them, a small platform where the master sits, a single private door behind him.

As Eren closes the door behind him, he is surprised to see only Erwin in the room. He had sworn there had been more--oh.

Standing in the middle of the room, a-midst the colorful array of pillows and blankets, is the new boy.

The boy turns to look at him as he walks over. He's a bit smaller then Eren, with golden hair cut just below his chin and framing his round face. The clothes he'd been wearing when he arrived were gone, replaced by brown pants, a white button down, and a blue vest that highlighted his eyes. A deep, vivid shade of blue that made Eren think of the ocean. The bruises on his arms have faded, but they are still there and Eren can see ones on the boy's neck to match.

The boy looks between him and Erwin, as if for instruction, while Eren stays still, waiting for the order.

Erwin nods.

Eren grabs the boys shoulders and pushes him down. The boy gives a startled yelp that's muffled by Eren's lips crashing onto his and for a moment goes rigid under him. Then the boy is struggling, trying to twist out of Eren's hold and push him away. Eren moves his hands to the boy's wrists and pins them to the floor, continuing to work on the boy's mouth. He wouldn't have pegged this small boy as a fighter, but despite his size and obvious disadvantage, the boy squirms and keeps his lips tightly sealed.

Used to this kind of thing from Jean, where it's a fight for dominance between them, Eren growls and tries to force the boy's mouth open, biting down on his lower lip. The boy jerks and for a minute Eren thinks he's succeeded.

Then he's seeing stars as the boy rams their heads together.

Eren pulls back with a curse, ready to tell the boy to calm the fuck down already, the words about to fly past his lips in a frustrated growl--

When he sees the boy's face.

There is no stubbornness, determination, or even arrogance in the boy's gaze; not even a trace. His eyes are wide, confusion and fear swimming in their ocean blue depths, and for the first time Eren notices that he is pale and shaking under him. His chest rises and falls with every short, sharp intake of breath, like he can't get enough and the look he's giving Eren...

The boy is looking at him like he's prey and Eren is a hunter that's going to devour him.

Eren frowns as the boy's mouth opens and closes, gaping like a fish as he struggles to say something, but all he can manege is a hoarse croak; "Wha-what's-why-?"

Wait.

Wait one. Fucking. _Minute._

Did _no one_ tell this boy what was going on?

Eren's eyes dart to Erwin; the man is sitting there, watching them intently, gaze impassive as ever. Eren fights down the urge to sink his fists into something (preferably his master's face); because having sex in front of his master is one thing, but rape is another story all together and his master be damned, he's not about to do it just so this fucking sonofabi-

Erwin blinks and Eren sees something flash in those eyes, but before he can react it's gone and Erwin's just sitting there. _Waiting._

Damnit.

This is a test. One of those fucking mind games he's heard about that Erwin likes to play sometimes. The boy was kept in the dark on purpose because Erwin wants to see what Eren will do.

Why?

Hell if he knows.

But the warning is clear; he can either finish what he started or leave and risk letting the boy be paired up with one of the rougher partners and being traumatized for life.

_Fuck._

Shooting his master a venomous glare from the corner of his eye, Eren makes his decision.

The boy has gone still, breathing still ragged as he stares up at Eren fearfully. When Eren bends down, he stiffens and starts struggling again; eyes wrenched shut and turning his head to the side.

He freezes when Eren's breath brushes against his ear.

"What's your name?"

The boy is silent for a moment before answering shakily, "A-armin." He follows Eren's cue and keeps his voice low; this is between the two of them right now.

"I'm Eren." He waits, loosens his grip on the boy's wrists a little. "Where'd my master find you, Armin?"

"A-at the Auction House. M-my old master wanted to sell me because," he swallows, "because I was too small and weak to be worth my keep. H-he was a farmer an-and I was only good with the livestock and he had other slaves to do that s-so he sold me."

The last part comes out in a rush and Eren hums thoughtfully, gently stroking Armin's wrist's in small circles. It has the desired affect; the boy's breathing slows down.

"How old are you?"

"Si-sixteen."

Just a touch younger himself, Eren notes. He presses a little closer, lips brushing against Armin's cheek. "Well, Armin, you belong to my master now and he tends to enjoy watching his slaves," he nips the boy's ear and Armin jumps, " _do_ certain things with each other."

Armin's face flushes and Eren can feel the heat radiating from his skin. _"Oh."_

Eren chuckles. "And you've been paired with me for the night, so..." he trails off, placing a feather light kiss on the younger boy's jaw. Armin's breath hitches.

"Bu-but I can't-I don't know-I mean I've ne-never-" his sentence is cut off as Eren, seizing the opportunity, captures his mouth with his own.

The boy's still stiff, but he doesn't resist this time, and Eren works that to his advantage. The kiss is gentle and deep, meant to reassure and soothe, and Eren can feel it doing just that; Armin relaxes a little, his body less rigid and a bit more accepting now that he knows what's going on. When Eren coaxes his mouth open a little more, he complies, gasping when Eren nips his bottom lip.

Eren pulls back and smirks at the boy, face flushed and breathless. He rests their foreheads together, lips just a hair apart and those impossibly blue eyes are locked with his.

"The only thing you have to do is _trust me_."


	2. Breath and Skin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER:  
> Dubcon & Underage Sex

It was an unusually peaceful evening in the slaves' common room, considering how many of them were there. Night lamps wore their way down the wicks, causing Mikasa to sit close by the firelight as she worked on an embroidery sample. Ymir, Christa and Bertholdt were the only sources of noise as they played cards at the gaming table; Ymir winning, judging by her frequent triumphant cackling. Reiner sat back to back with Bertholdt, facing the fireplace opposite Mikasa as he carefully worked on a new woodwork project. Millius lay on his stomach at Reiner's feet, propped up by one elbow as he concentrated on his latest sketch. Lounging on a chaise apart from the group as usual was Annie, reading the latest newsletter Hanji brought her from town. Curled up in an overstuffed, impossibly comfortable armchair, Mina's knitting needles added a pleasantly familiar click-click to their evening. At her feet, reclining against the chair was Marco, his arms wrapped snugly around Jean, sitting back to chest with him.

They chatted in hushed murmurs, often having long, comfortable periods of silence. Sasha had the entire couch, her feet up on an added pillow after being in the kitchen all day long. She nibbled on her stylus as she stared at her half-written list for items to pick up at the market in the morning; menu planning with another mouth to feed was not a challenge, but being ignorant to tastes and allergies was. Unsurprisingly, it was Jean that broke the mood.

"Hey. We're all here. Who's up with Eren?"

They all stared at him incredulously. 

"The new kid, jackass," Ymir hissed at him, her eyes flashing.  

The air grew heavy with discomfort as each of them battled memories; either the initial awkwardness of being new, or worse, the circumstances which led to their current place. Jean felt Marco nuzzle him and give his middle a squeeze; Jean patted his arm apologetically. Everyone joked he had been born with ass end out with his foot in his mouth. After a few more unpleasant moments, petite and tactful Christa broke the tension.

"How's Spatzel?" 

Everyone quickly turned their attention to Sasha, who beamed with glowing pride, erasing the earlier tension with one enigmatic smile.

"All set up in her bed near the kitchen fireplace, ready to give birth any second now." She turned to Bertholdt and blew a kiss in his direction. "Thanks for making that cubby, Bertholdt. She loves it."

Bertholdt merely nodded at her thanks, a shy smile on his features.

"Gosh, won't it be great to have a fresh litter of sweet little fluff balls tumbling around the place?" Mina cooed. 

"Dibs on naming one," Reiner said without looking up from his whittling.

"Dibs!" Several more voices cried out. 

"All right, all right." Sasha rolled her eyes. "Let's see how many she has first, okay? We'll go by lottery if we have to. Except for Reiner, since he called dibs first."

Reiner smirked. 

The peaceful silence returned. 

"Tch," Sasha said, stretching her back. "My brain is running in circles; there are so many possibilities! What if he hates what I make him?"

"Then he doesn't eat," Millius replied simply. "Nobody gets special treatment."

Reiner placed his foot on Millius' white blonde head, applying just enough force to make him bow. "You do when it's your first dinner in a new home. It's the polite thing to do."

Sasha nodded empathetically. "Exactly. But what to make?"

"Go with lamb," Ymir said, not looking as impressed with her hand as she did previously.

"Too early for lamb," Sasha said. "And that's your favorite, besides which."

 

Ymir smirked. Sasha knew all of their favorite foods, and when it was anyone’s birthday, or they were under the weather, she went out of her way to fix them. With a noisy yawn and another stretch, Sasha added, "Well, I'll just have to get inspired by whatever is at the market when Levi takes me tomorrow."

"Wait, what?" Jean looked up at her. "I don't think so. Levi is taking us shooting."

"No," Annie contradicted softly. "Levi's taking me out for training tomorrow."

There was a chorus of "No, Levi promised…" before a stoic, stern voice put an end to their arguing.

"Levi didn't promise shit, you brats."

They turned to see Levi enter the room, approaching the side of Mina's chair. His fingers came to rest gingerly on Marco's head as he stared at them contemptuously. The glare was returned by at least half of the room.

"There seems to be some discrepancy on what you may or not have promised tomorrow," Marco explained, tilting his head up to place a gentle kiss on Levi's fingertips. Their Overseer did not acknowledge the gesture, save for running his fingertips through Marco's pitch hair. He ignored Jean's glowering as he addressed the room in his usual unaffected manner.

"Relax, my little pestilence." he said neutrally. "I know you all love me best, but nobody is going anywhere until Sunday. Just pray my patience doesn't wear out before then and you get all of your work done beforehand." 

"What should Sasha make tomorrow for dinner?" Ymir asked Levi, shooting him a challenging stare from above her hand. "I suggested lamb, but Sasha said it's too early."

A subtle exhale escaped Levi's ever-so slightly upturned lips, and a flicker of something in those steel cold eyes. To the untrained eye, it was nothing, but to the eleven teens it was a frightening sight that sent a shiver down their spines.

"You know something." Mikasa stated quietly, embroidery on her lap, forgotten.

Ignoring her, Levi looked at Sasha. "Be ready at six."

"Yes, sir," she replied uncharacteristically quietly. He gave them one last look of impassive coldness before taking his leave, sending them back into their pensive silence.

They exchanged worried looks before trying in vain to resume their activities.

"I'm going up," Marco announced softly. Gently, he pushed Jean forward off his chest and kissed his ear. "Come tuck me in?"

"Yup," Jean said, hopping up on his feet and lending a hand to Marco as he got up off the floor. "Night, all."

"Night, Marco, night Jean." Replied several voices.

Millius was next to leave, then as Sasha and Mikasa got up to go Reiner held up his hand for her to wait.

"Mikasa," Reiner said in a low, conspiratorial voice. "Wake us if you need to."

Mikasa replied with a single nod. When shit did not feel right, they knew to share the information. They may argue, bicker and downright exchange blows, but they were a pack; a motley assortment of outcasts with a devotion forged in shared bondage.

 

* * *

 

Armin hesitated. Eren could see him struggling within himself. He understood now why he was there, but coping with it was still miles away.

"Look here," Eren says, releasing Armin's wrists, sliding his right hand up Armin's left hand, lacing their fingers together and bringing their hands close to their faces. With his other hand, he stroked back Armin's' blond hair. He had never touched hair so soft and fine; it reminded him of the down of a duckling. "I promise I will take very good care of you." He gave Armin's hand a meaningful squeeze, kissing the back of his hand as well.

"Will you hold my hand always?" Armin asked in a soft plea, his cerulean eyes pleading but no longer resisting. Eren hid his jaded chuckle behind his smile; Armin really had no concept of- well, it was up to Eren to teach him. God, he was furious. He would have to let that go, though. For now. Armin only deserved tender loving care.

Abandoning Armin's golden hair to offer his soft, white cheek a caress, Eren thought over his words carefully before answering the scared boy.

"I'll have to let go from time to time," Eren replied honestly. "But I will hold your hand whenever the opportunity presents itself."

This answered seemed to suffice, as Armin nodded his comprehension.

"Do you trust me, Armin?" Eren asked.

"Yes," Armin whispered, his ocean eyes burning with a prayer that he would not regret his choice.

Bringing their locked hands between their beating hearts, Eren pressed his lips to Armin's, sealing his promise with a kiss. He was heartened when Armin gave a shy, if not sweet, kiss back. A hopeful sign, Eren acknowledged as he started to realize his own growing attraction to Armin. His lips tasted of sunshine and fresh honey, if such a thing were possible. He moved his kisses to the boys cheeks; tender and just a touch pudgy  as if time could not bring itself to take away his roundness from childhood. His now closed eyelids, something Eren did not take offense to, given the circumstances, nose, and ear where he took Armin's earlobe delicately between his teeth, giving it a soft flick with the tip of his tongue. The boy inadvertently gasped in response, and Eren knew he had found his first spot to work on.

Filing that away later use, Eren continued to explore, his mouth now on the blond's neck, trying to see if he could elicit the same reaction in any one particular spot. He was careful not to press against the bruises left behind by some unknown assailant, but placed butterfly kisses there as an extra display of care. Armin's shoulders wiggled when Eren licked a particular area, but Eren quickly picked up that this was due to ticklishness and not genuine enjoyment. Time to move on.

"Okay," Eren whispered against his other ear, kissing the small shell between his words. "Do you want to remove your shirt, or should I?"

Armin knitted his brow and frowned, but it was gone as quickly as it'd come across his features. 

"You," he answered.

"I'll need both my hands."

This also brought a displeased expression to the angelic face, but he complied, letting go of Eren's hand. Hoisting the boy up into a sitting position while straddling his thighs, Eren doesn't try to be cute with his task; he has the cornflower blue vest off as quickly as he can. The young man is not being of much help, going limp like a doll, but a doll Eren can move any way he pleased to remove the apparel. The white button down is trickier, taking longer. Eren took hold of the hand again as he went in for another kiss.

Persistent compared to the previous kisses, Eren managed to get a stronger response from Armin, and using this to his advantage, simultaneously flicked his tongue along Armin's bottom lip and began to unbutton his shirt. Just as his knuckle brushed against the skin of Armin's torso, he felt a shiver go through the other boy, causing Armin to open his mouth ever so slightly as he inhaled sharply. Never one to pass up an opportunity, Eren snaked the tip of his tongue between Armin's lips. A soft, slightly confused noise emitted from Armin's throat, but he did not fight. He must be curious, because he opens slightly wider, allowing Eren's tongue passage. The shirt is unbuttoned, and Eren, now with his own eyes closed, expertly tugs and slides the fabric at all the right places. He feels Armin shifting, giving release of his first sleeve before releasing his clasped hand to quickly shuck off the other side, grasping Eren's hand as soon as his other arm is free.

Slipping his free arm around Armin's back to support him as he continued a cursory exploration of Armin's mouth, Eren found himself running a mantra through his head, reminding himself to pull back his own growing enthusiasm. His zealousness was his greatest asset as well as his greatest fault, but keeping a strong mental image of the horrorstruck look on Armin's face kept his zeal at bay. He will not, absolutely, positively, purposefully hurt or frighten Armin. 

He felt Armin pull back gently, and Eren allowed it more out of curiosity then courtesy. Judging by his quiet shallow breaths, he was in need of air; everything was new and Eren did not begrudge him. He kept his chest pressed closely against Eren's, his face buried just enough where Eren could dip down and work on that ear once more. As he worked the tiny lobe back and forth, Armin began to squirm. Eren laid him down on his back again, careful to keep tight with their clasped hands.

Shifting so his weight did not sit entirely on the smaller boy, Eren kept half of his body on top of him, slipping one leg between Armin's as he continued to worry the ear. With his other hand free now, Eren started to trace patterns across Armin's smooth chest. This caused a great hitch of breath from the younger blond; Eren made sure to pay close attention to the locations that drew the larger inhales. As his fingertips skated above one pink nipple, a small involuntary noise escaped Armin's lips. Aha. Pressing further, Eren took the earlobe in his mouth and began to suckle it, drawing out another delicious gasp.

Eren felt Armin tighten his hold on his hand once Eren began to slowly worry that sensitive nipple, feeling it harden under the pad of his thumb. As he worked both ear and chest, Eren let his knee slowly begin to rotate between Armin's thighs. That earned him a slight spasm as Armin's empty hand flew to his shoulder, clutching it like a tiny hawk. He did not push Eren away, though, merely used him as an anchor as his first tingles of arousal awoke within him. Moving to Armin's other ear, Eren paused to taste Armin's posy pink lips again, emboldened as the petite boy beneath him not only opened his mouth to him but returned the pressure. Eren remained there, finding the honeyed taste of Armin's lips to be intoxicating. 

Armin invited Eren's tongue into his mouth, his muscle curiously touching Eren's tongue and even slipped into Eren's mouth twice before Eren broke their kiss to move on to the other earlobe. This one was either more sensitive, or the blond boy was letting himself go further; his soft gasp turning into a reluctant groan as Eren nipped him. 

Inching his way down the other boy's body, Eren lapped and nibbled at the hollow of Armin's neck before planting open-mouthed kisses along his collarbone. Armin's skin was soft despite having worked on a farm before; quite flush now, too, thanks to Eren's ministrations. Dotting feather light kisses down Armin's sternum, Eren was surprised by how fast the boy's heart beat underneath him. Pausing to listen, Eren was reminded of a tiny bird trapped in a cage. He kissed the boy above his heart before trailing down to the nipple he had yet to work on. Feeling the other boy hitch before he actually covered the nipple with his lips, Eren could only chuckle softly in response. The grip on his taken hand tightened as Eren gently worried the rosy pink nipple with his lips and tongue, his thumb still working its twin. The effect was instantaneous; Armin started to writhe as a small mewling noise pulled from his throat.

Sitting up to reposition himself, Eren lay down to whisper in Armin's ear again. The boy's body gave a jolt and a yelp as their clothed hardness pressed against one another. Eren kissed the blue-eyed boy's ear tenderly. "You're all right," Eren whispered. "See? I'm just as hard as you."

"B-but I didn't do anything to you," Armin whispered back, barely audible to Eren.  

"You're…here," Eren replied, nuzzling the boy in the junction between neck and shoulder as he lightly thrust his hips forward, encouraging the friction. Another tight squeeze of their locked hands accompanied by moans which Armin desperately tried to hold back. Repeating the motion, slowly and methodically, as he dotted kisses behind Armin's ear, Eren was finally awarded a few thrusts back. He had to press on. 

"I need my hand now, Armin," Eren said with an apologetic kiss to the boy's cheek and lips. Armin opened his eyes to look into his questioningly. Raising their hands to face level, holding Armin's gaze as he kissed his hand again.

Despite the nervous tremble in his hand, Armin released his vice-like grip, eyes still focused on Eren even as the older boy slowly unlaced his fingers from Armin's. He made no preamble about his next course of action, quickly shucking off his pants, followed by Armin's. Eren winced to see Armin tense and squirm. Quick to make it up to him, Eren covered him with his body once more, exhaling deeply at their mutual body heat. Moving his hips in controlled grinding motions, Eren did not even pretend to hide his joy at watching Armin's jaw hang open as their erections rubbed together. Taking hold of Armin's hand again, Eren bowed to kiss the back of it apologetically before releasing him again and kneeling back between Armin's thighs.

A hitch in Armin's breath was all the trouble he gave Eren as the older boy raised his knees up on either side of Eren's body. Reaching one hand up the lithe length of Armin's body, Eren took hold of the hand he had to abandon, lacing their fingers again as promised. Bending down as he spread Armin's thigh just far enough so he could plant gentle butterfly kisses on the soft, smooth and thoroughly sensitive skin of Armin's inner thigh. 

"Eren!" Armin gasped, much to Eren's surprise and his cock's delight, twitching traitorously in anticipation for taking this boy. Ignoring his own inner conflict, Eren continued to gently knead the flesh, kissing, a little nibbling and finally, a generous lick, which he took all the way across to Armin's erection. Swiping his tongue up the length in one long, languid motion, Eren was nearly ashamed at how much he reveled in the full body shudder that shook through the golden hair boy. More butterfly kisses for the member before taking him in his mouth; the goal being to give a sampling of pleasure, to further relax but not finish. Much as Eren longed to give Armin a very thorough sucking, he knew if Armin were to come too early this nightmare would only get worse for him.

Pulling off of Armin's cock, Eren's eyes darted at the small silver urn sitting just beyond them right before the dip in their area. Loathed as he was to leave Armin even for five seconds, Eren quickly and silently crawled over to snatch the urn, squelching the urge to knock it over in petulance. Backtracking to Armin, Eren took the boy and tenderly repositioned him into a reclining position against his chest. Armin gave a soft moan at being moved, but comforted by a protective arm wrapped low around his waist, Eren's spread legs on either side of him. With his free hand, Eren removed the lid from the urn and dunked his hand in the warmed oil used for lubricant. Poising his slicked hand just outside Armin's entrance, Eren pressed his lips against the shell of Armin's right ear before whispering hotly, "Focus here." He then snaked his tongue along the rim and was gifted with a hard shudder and whimper. 

Seizing his moment, Eren slipped his finger inside. Armin let out a squeak, but his surprise was too great to cause him to clench. It'd been a very long time since anyone needed such preparations, but Eren set to task earnestly, making sure he was giving Armin as much pleasure as he could by working his erogenous zone ear, contrasting any discomfort he may feel from the intrusive finger.

"Doing so well," Eren praised as he wiggled the earlobe between his teeth. Relieved that he was met with little resistance, Eren soon brought his index finger out, only to replace it with two fingers. There was a twitch of Armin's hips, but Eren just increased the attention to the earlobe, making sure to run his tongue along the sensitive skin of the back of the ear.  A soft, curious grunt emitted from Armin just as Eren began his prelude to stimulate Armin's prostate. 

"All right?" Eren inquired lowly, pleased by Armin's quick nod. Eren let the teen get used to the feeling of a steady rhythm sliding in and out of him, thankful he had his own first experience with a boy to reflect upon. Sensations were not painful if one was adequately relaxed, merely foreign.

When Armin's hips bucked along with Eren's fingers, the brunette knew to withdraw. Reaching behind him on either side, Eren gathered a half dozen pillows and bolsters before he smoothly rolled Armin down against them. The angelic boy would have looked like he was sleeping, had it not been for his flushed skin, ragged breathing and the occasional whimper of need. Eren reclaimed his place between Armin's legs, cock slicked ready at Armin's entrance. Taking a moment to pause and swallow back the wave of revulsion he felt at himself for taking so much pleasure in his hateful task, Eren gave a start to see a petit raised hand, fingers stretched and trembling as they waited for Eren to clasp once more. He did not disappoint; Eren kept a skilled balance of leaning over Armin to lace his fingers tightly with his own as his other hand guided his wanting cock inside of the beautiful boy.

Armin must have been holding his breath, judging by the stuttering, tearful keen as Eren filled him. For his part, Eren went in slow, lowering his body the further he went in the tight heat; his grip on Armin's hand tightening as he descended upon him. A fleeting desire to apologize to the blond was quickly squelched; now was not the time for anything other than delivering pleasure. Snaking his tongue to swipe tentatively across Armin's kiss-swollen gasping lips, Eren began to move; confident but meaningful thrusts meant to ease Armin into the feeling of being filled and moved within. Heartened by the way Armin curled their held hands against his heart, Eren built up his thrusts, ensuring he hit the blond's sweet spot every time. 

Their build was gradual, but acute. Eren's methodical thrusts as he slid back and forth just hovering above Armin's body, and Armin accepted each loving kiss bestowed on him, his return kisses underscored by a new hunger Eren was determined to satiate. Eren had every intention of maintaining this pace and position as Armin seemed at ease, with his hungry kisses and little chirps of pleasure ringing in Eren's ears. It all changed, however, when Eren's sweat slicked hand nearly lost his balance and he wound up giving Armin a harder thrust than intended, causing the blond to gasp and thrust back involuntarily. Caught up in the thrill of the exchange, Eren repeated the motion, going harder, deeper; sure enough those pale hips thrust back and kept meeting his rhythm. Forgetting his gentility, Eren gave those dusty pink lips a bruising kiss. 

In a moment of unabashed desire and rebellion, Eren pulled back into a sitting position, dragging Armin into his lap, short legs around Eren's waist with his back strategically positioned towards the master, disabling his view of Armin's face. The sudden shift made Armin give a sharp cry; yes, the change had the desired effect; Eren was hitting the sweet spot more profoundly now. He worked Armin on his cock, steadily thrusting upward as he made sure to keep their interlocked hands between their sweat slicked, heaving chests. For his efforts, Eren was awarded with not only Armin's hips gyrating hard to get touched where he needed to feel good, but the ragged, piercing cries, albeit underscored with humiliation, that rang out within the room. 

Rising to his knees, Eren dragged his teeth and lips across Armin's tear stained cheek as he practically bounced the smaller boy on his cock. Armin inadvertently worked harder to get deeper; the blond feverishly undulated his hips, desperate to get his sweet spot further stimulated. Eren brought their clasped hands down between their abdomens, forcing Armin's hand over his own leaking hardness. The blonde tossed his head in protest, but Eren brought his lips to his ear.

"You can do it, Armin. Almost there." Eren took the earlobe between his teeth, heightening the sensation enough that he began to pump himself, Eren's hand on top of his. "That's it, that's it, keep going, oh god Armin, keep going," Eren huffed in his ear between nibbles, licks and kisses. "You're doing so well, yes, _Armin, Armin, Armin_."

With one last tear-stained, strangled cry, a mangled version of Eren's name, Armin's back violently arched as he climaxed, Eren not a half second behind, emptying his seed inside of the blue-eyed boy. Eren removed their hands from Armin's spent member and laced them together once more, just as he had promised. Crashing on small pile of pillows and bolsters, Eren quickly drew the boy's gasping body to his chest as their bodies shuddered powerfully in orgasmic aftershocks. Wrapping his limbs around Armin to further cocoon him, Eren pressed fierce but loving kisses at the crown of Armin's head. Eren knew in his soul that he would die to protect this young man, shuddering from an unwanted orgasm, tears of humiliation streaming down his round cheeks. 

Permitting himself to open the floodgates to his temper once his post-coital bliss ebbed, Eren sharply sat up and grabbed the corner of the blanket Armin laid on. Rolling the fabric over the young man's body, followed by the opposite corner, Eren managed to swaddle the teen so he was securely shielded. Angrily gathering his and Armin's clothes, Eren pointedly ignored the bemused stare he could feel burning into his skin. It was the mystery of the master's motivation that enraged Eren the most; not that there was any sane excuse for putting Armin through that, but Eren wanted an explanation - any - even if it was for the simple, twisted reason that Erwin did this simply because he can.

The thought churned his stomach, and indeed Eren felt a wave of nausea at what he had been bided to do. After his pants were on and Armin's clothes set on top of the blanket that contained the trembling boy, Eren slipped his arms underneath his burden and heaved him up into his arms bridal style. Only the very top of Armin's head was visible from the blanket. Eren waited, his seething rage speaking volumes, weighing heavily on the air, making the room feel small and confined. Green eyes blazing open hatred, Eren cared little about repercussions so long as it was only aimed at himself and not Armin. The boy had suffered enough. Not surprisingly, Eren was merely given the usual nod of dismissal; he wasted no time in getting the fuck out of there.

* * *

  

"Shhh, Armin," Eren cooed as he stalked through the dark and silent corridors back to the slaves quarters downstairs and across the manor. The boy was becoming agitated, clutching tight to Eren's neck as he grew louder in his despair; crying turning into sobs, sobs turning into wails and finally, just as Eren reached his bedroom door, a piercing scream that rocked eleven other souls wide awake, shaking them to their very cores.

 

* * *

 

"The hell was that?" Bertholdt softly exclaimed as he leapt up to a sitting position. Next to him, Reiner sat up and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.  His face was set in a hard grimace as he answered, "I think we're about to find out. Time to call a meeting."

* * *

 

Candlelight fell on Eren as his bedroom door opened and Mikasa quickly ushered him inside. Armin had gone alarmingly still in his arms, and Eren gently laid him down on his bed to examine him. He felt Mikasa at his shoulder.

"He just passed out," Eren said, breathing a sigh of relief. "It's for the best." 

Mikasa's sharp eyes flicked between her foster brother and the new boy as Eren situated him on the bed. 

"Get some warm water, a cloth and some soap," Eren instructed as he began to gently unwrap the swaddling he'd wrapped the boy in. For modesty, he kept one layer lightly draped over him. Mikasa returned with the requested items, setting them down on the floor next to Eren before joining him to help squeeze out the warm, soapy water from the cloth. Eren set to task earnestly, careful and respectful as he cleaned Armin thoroughly, unable to look at Mikasa and answer the question in her eyes.

"The others are awake."

"I can't face them," Eren said, his voice hollow. 

 "You have a lump on your forehead." 

"Ah yeah," Eren replied, a whisper of a grin tugging at his lips. "He got me good." 

"Why?" Mikasa asked, almost afraid of the answer. As if to confirm her fears, hot tears sprang into Eren's green eyes. He handed her back the washcloth with a trembling hand before moving to his wardrobe to pull out a long nightshirt. As he approached the unconscious boy, Eren curled into himself, shaking with rage. Pulling himself together in one deep inhale, Eren carefully dressed the boy, relating his evening to his foster sister as he did so. Her expression never wavered, save for a brief moment when she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, exhaling out all of her rage. When Eren could no longer bring himself to talk, and could only sit by Armin's side as he held his hand and smoothed back his yellow hair, Mikasa tenderly touched his shoulder. "Get some rest. I need to meet with everyone. What should I tell them?"

"Everything," Eren said as exhaustion finally slammed into him. "They'd only find out anyway…in a bad way."

 

* * *

 

Mikasa found the others waiting for her in Reiner's room. She looked around at them, trying to string together the least amount of words that would be the most effective.

"Just spit it out," Ymir encouraged, holding Christa in her lap, leaning against the headboard next to Bertholdt, who remained in the corner with his knees drawn up. 

"Nobody spoke to the boy, Armin, about anything…Eren didn't know this initially. Eren...was his first." 

The words sank in like a brick in their stomachs. Mina slid down the wall she had been leaning against, her soft brown eyes widening in horror as a past trauma came back to haunt her. Christa immediately went to her, wrapping her arms around Mina's shoulders and whispering soft nothings in her ear as the brunette rocked back and forth. Jean and Marco shared dark, perplexed looks.  

"Well," Millius said lightly from his position furthest away from the group, shoulder on the wall by the door. "That's a first." He made a scene of yawning loudly and stretching his arms above his fair head. "Thanks for the heads up. I'm going back to bed."

"Hey, not so fast!" Reiner barked at him. With one hand on the door handle and the other on his slim hip, Millius shot his comrades a look of contempt. "The hell is the matter with you? Don't you have a heart?"

"Sure I do," Millius said, pointing to his chest. "It's right here. Not here." He pointed to his sleeve. 

"You bastard," Jean hissed. 

"Right," Millius sighed. "I'm the bastard because I refuse to be swayed by the injustices of the world." He jammed a thumb towards Mina, now curled up between Bertholdt and Ymir as both parties and Christa rubbed soothing circles on her back. "Who is crying for Mina? For Bertholdt? For Eren? For you, Jean? I'll tell you who: nobody. Nobody gives a damn. And the sooner we all wake up and realize that, the sooner we stand on our two feet." He paused to see if anyone would challenge him before continuing. "Listen, I'm not stupid. I know my unique circumstances tints the shade I view the world in, but what is it we are supposed to do with this information, exactly?" A humorless grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Seek vengeance? Rebel? Runaway? Hah!"

"You're right, Millius," Jean replied cockily. "Your unique circumstance does skew your view of the world. You are the only one of us who wound up here by his own fuck ups."

"Oh, really?" Millius sassed. "Will all of the thieves who were caught red-handed kindly raise their hands?" He waited, unsurprised when nobody moved to answer him. "At least I've no illusions or shame about my past. I know it was my pride that got me where I am right now, and I never once forget where I am. Do you? We belong to another human being; we were bought, we are property, we are his possessions to do with as he sees fit. This is how the world works and the sooner new kid accepts this, the better off he'll be."

"It's as easy as that for you, Millius?" Annie asked in her low voice.

"It is, as a matter of fact, as easy as that for me. I've no tears to shed on somebody who has the same lot in life as I do. "

"You can't deny that what was done to him was fucked up." 

"Fine. It was fucked up. Now what? Get on your feet and keep marching. Do your work. Adapt. Survive. Don't stop for a coddling because someone got you by surprise."

The others said nothing; the truth need not be echoed. 

"I need to get back to Eren," Mikasa said, tactfully putting an end to their meeting. She turned to head out but found Millius blocking the way, looking at her heavily.

"I don't mean to be heartless," he said somberly. "I just want him to understand that this is all an illusion. So he never gets caught unguarded again." 

Mikasa nodded congenially and followed the white-haired boy out. 

She found Eren asleep, protectively curled around Armin, whose back was against the wall. The bed would be snug with the three of them, but there was no way she was going to abandon him now. Snuffing out the last of the light, Mikasa crawled onto the bed and settled at Eren's back, pleased to discover that Eren found the strength to also bathe away his terrible ordeal.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wowza this is a long chapter. I make no promises on the length or explicitness of each and every single chapter, but it's a safe bet to assume smut will be frequent. I'm just an erroneously verbose lady.   
> Also, the title of this fanfic comes from this version of Come Undone: http://youtu.be/b13HSQHqe1I and each chapter will be named from the lyrics.
> 
> Anywho, I hope you enjoyed this installment!


	3. take a little time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings for this chapter:  
> \- dubcon  
> \- allusion to kidnapping  
> \- anxiety attack  
> \- general twisted f'ed up-ness
> 
> Thank you as ever to jean_huh_kirschnickerdoodle for being my beta-reader!

Sasha was careful to wake early enough to properly dress for heading out into the village. She wasn't a shy girl in the least, but having been born into service and then sold, she understood her place well and dressed the part. It wasn't so much a reflection on her modesty (of which she had little of), but a representation of the house she belonged to. She may be eccentric and verbose to the point of exhaustion, but no one could ever accuse her of displaying ill-manners in public. Her long brown hair was painstakingly hidden in her white cap, its crisp wide brim hanging in points to conceal any thoughts that her face may display. Master Erwin had tried desperately to instill the value of holding in her emotions; to never allow strangers to know what she was thinking. It was a challenge she struggled with to this day at home, but in the public eye she had all but mastered. 

Smoothing down invisible creases as she approached the stables, glad Mina had used the early spring sun to her advantage to sun bleach her apron, Sasha was not surprised to find Levi already waiting for her.

 "Should we walk? It's a nice day."

Levi cast her a withering glare. "We're running an errand, not out for a Sunday stroll."

Sasha merely preened in response as Jean came out of the stables, leading Levi's impressive black mare, Obsidian, over to them. Levi raised a brow; he hadn't expected Jean to be the one to get up extra early for this task. The others were only waking now. 

"Hey, while you're there," Jean began in a low, rushed voice. "If you see anything nice for Marco, let me know?"

Levi eyed the teenager suspiciously. "Why?"

“His birthday is soon." 

"Not for another two months." 

"But I should get a head start, right? If you see something you think he'd like, I can start making a replica now and have it done by then." 

Levi rolled his eyes; the way Jean trailed Marco like a lost puppy was a comedy he had been forced to witness for the last eight years. Erwin found it amusing, but Levi was weary of it. Refusing to reply to Jean's inquiry, Levi mounted his horse in one fluid motion, holding out his elbow for Sasha to hitch up behind him. After hoisting her up behind the stern overseer, Jean gave a playful tug to the pointed end of her cap. 

"Shall I tell the lighthouse master to keep an eye out for your sails, Sasha?"

"Shut up," Sasha giggled, giving a lazy kick, which Jean easily avoided. Once Levi felt her arms securely around his waist, Levi gave his mare an encouraging prod and they were off.

"You're suspiciously quiet," Levi observed when their journey was over and Levi was tying his horse at the public hitching post. He handed the young stable boy a handsome coin, his steel eyes warning the lad that the black mare had best be the most cared for steed in his absence. 

"Just debating my menu for Sunday lunch," Sasha replied as they stepped into Market Square, the open air municipal market, already bustling with activity. "It's always a disruption when we have a new person in the household."

"Mm. You should be used to it by now."

"Yes, I suppose," Sasha admitted, heading in the direction she needed to tend to most. "But then we get settle and get comfortable. Then someone new comes in and shakes everything up."

"He isn't Millius," Levi assured her, the humor just detectable. 

"True." 

They headed for the Meat Hall, situated at the north corner of the Market Square. There were twenty stalls inside, but Sasha only conducted business with two butchers whose fare had consistently held up with her standard.  

Just as they approached the entrance, however, something caught Levi's eye. 

"Levi?" Sasha halted, forcing patience on herself.

"You go," Levi said coldly, though his tone was not entirely directed at her. "I'll fetch you."

It was a command she was familiar with; she would run her errand, but be unable to move from the butcher's stall until Levi came to escort her back. Not all slaves were afforded such a long leash, but Sasha knew no other life and had little to complain of. 

The familiar metallic aroma of the Meat Hall greeted Sasha's keen nose like a long lost friend. It certainly wasn't a place for everyone, but anything to do with food and she loved it. Sasha made a beeline for the first butcher, who specialized in dried and alder smoked meats. They talked pleasantries while she filled her order for the weekend. 

One of her fondest memories was after a bout of depression over the loss of her parents, the Master had given her a small smoked ham hock to cheer her up. He'd indulged her clumsy attempt at playing head cook, slicing it up and serving it to him on the scrubbed wooden table of the servants kitchen, sitting there in that signature silent, patient way of his. Just letting her cope. Looking back, she figured it was his inexperience in dealing with children that led to the odd gift, but even then her love for food was known throughout the household. She had a hollowed out tree used for smoking the game taken down in the fall, but that only lasted so long with nearly two dozen mouths to feed.  

"Ah, Sasha," bellowed the voice of the butcher she came to for fresh meat. "My favorite customer."

"I'm sure you say that to all of your customers with a hefty expense account," Sasha replied shrewdly. Observing Rico and her mother before her, Sasha knew how to interact with vendors better than seasoned maids twice her age. 

"Not so, not so," Springer insisted as Sasha ran a critical eye over his display. "I respect your discerning eye. Who else will keep me on my toes?"

Sasha rewarded him with a smug smile. A great clattering was heard in the back area, followed by a string of curses as a slight, coarse looking boy came out, hauling a large side of beef to the butcher board behind the display.

"Ah, Connie," The butcher nodded. "My sister's son has come to learn my trade." Addressing the young man, he called, "Connie, come meet Sasha, our most shrewd customer." 

"Yeah, yeah," Connie grumbled, wiping his hands on his blood splattered apron as he turned around. He gave a start as his eyes fell on Sasha, and she felt her face grow warm under his blatant stare. Forgetting herself, she frowned dramatically, quickly looking over the meat again. For once in her life, Sasha was silent. A heavy stare at her shoulder let her know Levi was there, hanging back to let her finish. The unabashed ogling from Connie mingled with Levi's watchful eye made Sasha remember herself. 

"Seven pounds of chops, and two of those fowls." 

"Connie!" The butcher snapped when the boy did not move. Snapping out of it, Connie hurriedly went to fill her order. 

"Not that one," Sasha warned as Connie went to pick up a chop that was graying at the edges. Pulling his hand back sharply, Connie stared at her in awe; Levi smirked, listening to the conversation. Their Sasha would never accept subpar food.

"Yes, miss," Connie said, picking up the finest chop on display. His uncle raised a curious brow before turning to take care of another customer. "So, uhm, doing the shopping for the week?"

"Some, but this is for Sunday lunch."

"All of it?" Connie goggled impolitely. Sasha tactfully ignored him, turning her head so all Connie saw was the side of her cap. Levi felt a surge of pride despite himself; he was pleased she was old enough and trained enough to carry out these menial tasks he so loathed. "You have a big family to feed."

Sasha held out her basket for him to place the wrapped chops in. "Yes, I cook for a large household."

Levi smirked; though she was having a difficult time with the shameless questioning of this whelp, Sasha, to her credit, fought against her open and friendly nature to remain prim.

"Oh, you're the cook?" Connie inquired. "What will you dress the chops with?"

Sasha nearly smiled; now he was speaking her language. "Parsnips, fried onions and  _Speckknödel_ most likely."

"It's too bad you have another month before white asparagus is in season; they'd be terrific."

"Yes, they would," Sasha offered him a genuine smile, causing him to stand rigid, another scarlet streak across his face.

"Hey…what color is your hair?" Connie inquired.

Taken aback by the question, Sasha hesitated just long enough for Levi to give an impatient cough. Reserved once more, Sasha adjusted the basket on her far arm, handing her escort the fowls. Connie eyed Levi warily, lowering his voice but not low enough as he asked Sasha, "Is he your man?"

"Good day," Sasha said evasively, nodding to the butcher and his nephew. As she turned to go, Connie reached over the stall and took hold of her wrist. 

"Wait, I --"

Levi was on him like a hawk, prying the boy's hand off and tossing him with just enough force to bewilder him but not do serious injury. The butcher scowled at his impetuous nephew, who only gaped at the pair of them.

"You should know better than to touch property that isn't yours, boy," Levi said, his voice even but hard as steel. He abruptly walked away, knowing Sasha would follow. With a lingering guilty glance at Connie, Sasha trotted along behind.

"You idiot," The butcher smacked his nephew on the back of his head. "You could have ruined relations with my best customer."

"What the hell?" Connie grumbled, rubbing the back of his head as he gave his uncle the stink eye. "I was just talking to that cute kitchen maid; what's the big fucking deal?"

His uncle lowered his voice to a dangerous hiss "That kitchen maid is the slave of the most influential man in the area."

"Slave?" Connie repeated, feeling his heart shatter into a million pieces. 

"You'll do well to remember, Connie," the butcher murmured. "Messing with slaves is punishable by death in most cases."

"What? I would never hurt her!"

"I know you wouldn't," His uncle said, turning to cut the slab of beef side Connie had hauled out earlier. "But I see that look in your eyes. You can't run away with her. Think of her, Connie, and what her punishment would be. Far worse than death, I can tell you that. Best to forget any tomfoolery your peabrain is cooking up." 

Connie could only sigh in frustration as he peered in the direction Sasha and her escort left in. 

"Are we done here?" Levi asked as they came back into Market Square. Sasha studied her Overseer, realizing he had not become agitated by Connie, but something that had transpired before he came to fetch her. She knew it was none of her business to inquire, not that he would divulge anyway, but sought to ease his spirit regardless. 

"One more stop," Sasha chirped. "I just have to pick up some cocoa powder."

Levi eyed her from his peripherals. "Oh?"

She only made chocolate for very special occasions, such as May Day, Walpurgismacht and his birthday.

"May Day is around the corner and I ought to change up my usual confections," Sasha mused, trying to sound innocent enough. "It'll take a lot of trial and error to get it right."

"Hn," Levi responded, letting her lead them towards the spice dealer. 

"I guess I'll need someone to taste test them…provide me with detailed feedback."

Levi rewarded her with a long suffering sigh. "Such a brat."

Sasha merely tittered in response.

 

* * *

 

Eren awoke sometime around midday. Mikasa had left at daybreak, and after a cursory peek under the blanket next to him, he found Armin to be fast asleep. Figuring he would still sleep a few more hours, Eren debated what to do with himself. He wanted to return to unconsciousness, but shirking his duties and leaving everything to Jean and Mikasa was not ideal. Reluctantly, Eren slipped quietly out of bed, giving a start that melted into a smile when he noticed the tray of food sitting atop his Pembroke table. Eren had no real use for the table, as he did not write or draw or even craft like Mikasa with her needlework, but it came in handy for storing odds and ends that found their way into his possession. 

After dressing, Eren sat at his table and took a piece of meat, cheese and bread for an open-face sandwich, occasionally eyeing the slumbering boy. Either sensing the weight of Eren's gaze on him, or the soft sounds of a bustling household, Armin slowly came to, azure eyes focusing instantly on Eren before widening in panic.

"Hey, it's okay," Eren said in a soft, soothing voice as he set his food down and climbed onto the bed; bringing a hesitant hand to Armin's brow, swiping away the fringe. "It's just us. You're back in my room."

Wary eyes flitted about, making sure it was really just them, before settling back on Eren. Cautious but determined to trust.

Eren tried his best to hold Armin's gaze, but failed, looking at his own lap. "How do you feel?"

It was a stupid question, but he could not think of a better one. Armin raised his pale blonde eyebrows, considering the question.

"Thirsty."

Grinning, Eren nodded before fetching a glass of water left with his breakfast tray. Eren waited in patient silence for Armin to break the silence again. As he sat up on the bolsters, Armin seemed to be lost in his thoughts, nursing his water. 

"Armin…" Eren began, forcing himself to look in the boy's eyes this time. It wasn't without great difficulty, but he managed. "Listen, I'm really,"

"No." Armin said softly but firmly, touching three fingers to Eren's lips. He offered the older boy a soft smile. "You had to. I don't blame you."

Eren was surprised to find himself choking on a sob that threatened to bring another flood of damnable tears. He held the latter, though it was painful to swallow back. Armin's warm touch on the back of his hand soothed his soul and he almost felt absolved. Tenderly, he pressed his lips to the boy's fingers before removing them, holding his hand.

"You should. Partially. I…" Damn the flush on his face. "I got carried away. I'm ashamed-"

"Don't say that," Armin exclaimed with a wince. "I'm glad you did." A reluctant blush colored his pale cheeks. "I understand why you did it and…it worked." 

Gratitude flooded his heart. Eren took the emptied glass from Armin, setting it on his nightstand before scooting closer to the other boy, throwing an arm around his shoulders. They held hands and tilted their heads together.

"You must have so many questions."

"Yes," Armin replied. "I'm unsure where to begin." A thought kept pressing on him, and once he managed to overcome his shyness, Armin inquired, "Will it always…be like that?"

"Uhm," Eren thought on it. "No, I suppose not. Everyone is different."

Armin closed his eyes and sighed in realization. "That's right. There's more of you, isn't there?"

"You make thirteen."

Eren was unsure if the noncommittal noise Armin made was out of awe or irritation and for the first time, Eren was marveled by the boy's emerging personality. 

"I'm more embarrassed than anything, you know," Armin confessed, his voice tired.

"You have nothing to be embarrassed about," Eren assured him.  

Armin cast him a dubious glance, causing Eren to see a glimmer of mature humor that may be lurking under Armin's soft voice and boyish looks. 

"I just don't want to be caught off guard like that ever again."

"Me, either," Eren echoed quietly. They remained silent, lost in their own deeply coveted thoughts until Armin broke the silence.

"This is your room?"

"Yeah. Through that door is Mikasa's room. She's…she's like family to me."

"That's nice; you found a friend here."

"No; we've been on our own since we were kids. Making it on our own until we… couldn't. Our master bought us together."

"What a blessing that must have been," Armin mused, amazed by Eren's serendipity. 

"Yeah. You know, up until last night, I would have been able to say with some confidence how well we're treated here."

Armin gave him a wry smile. "I'm well acquainted with slavery, Eren." He held out his arms, the bruises fading into a pale yellowish green but still visible. 

"Our people do that to you?" Eren asked carefully. "I pry because I never once experienced nor heard of any of Erwin's slaves ever being beaten. But at this moment, I'm not sure of anything anymore."

"No, these are my parting gift from my old master." Armin huffed. "In fact, the woman, uhm,"

"Hanji."

"Yes. She tended to me very nicely." 

"Armin, when I approached the room last night…I thought I heard you and my, er, our master talking. What were you talking about?" Eren was still struggling with the callousness of the folly done to Armin.

"Horses!" Armin cried, flabbergasted. "He asked me if I enjoyed working with livestock, and I said yes, though I'd been deemed unfit to do so. He asked if I liked horses, which I said yes, horses are my favorite animal to care for. He said he would see to it I was placed to work in the stables and then you arrived and…"

"Shit got weird." Eren finished for him.

"Shit. Got. _Weird_." 

Armin and Eren shared a bemused, slightly bashful snicker. Sighing as he rested his head on Eren's shoulder, Armin asked, "Do the others know?"

"Yeah." Seeing Armin grimace and look away, Eren wrapped his arms around the boy's bird like shoulders. "How often will I have to…?"

"There's no telling," Eren replied honestly. "It's all to our master's whim, totally random."

A dark look crossed Armin's face, startling Eren. "Nothing is random. I'm sure there is some sort of pattern; you just have to look hard enough."

Eren started, but merely held Armin tighter. What was that look? It was as if Armin had been possessed for all of a fleeting moment; a dark fire in his eyes, Cupid bow hard set and all traces of his delicateness gone for the blink of an eye. 

_You just have to look hard enough._

The grandfather clock in the hallway chimed, bringing Eren out of his reverie. Reluctantly, he loosened his hold on Armin.

"Unfortunately, I have to return to the stable. I'm there, too." He brushed Armin's golden hair to one side of his face. "Do you want to come visit?"

Armin seemed to take on an inner debate before finally answering him; "I just want to sleep."

"Sleep then," Eren said as he scooted off the bed, turning to ruffle the downy soft yellow hair. 'I'll wake you at dinner."

"All right," Armin murmured, already half asleep.

Eren took his half-eaten breakfast and headed towards the common area, going by way of kitchen to get to the stables. A distinct mewling came from the box near the fireplace, warming Eren's heart as he realized their farm cat Spatzel must have given birth sometime in the night.

"Oh, Eren!" Sasha called as she spied him cutting through. "I'm running a bit behind; take this out to the others, will you?" She nodded towards a large basket filled with individually sectioned off food. 

"What's this?" He asked, voice muffled from the bread and cheese in his mouth.

"Lunch for everyone outside. I usually send one of my girls, but we're busy getting the evening meal prepared for the main house. So off you go."

Eren scowled at his task, but took the basket without further complaint. He didn't want to undermine Sasha in front of her girls, two daughters from one of the Master's tenants. They only came for the day to assist in cleaning and cooking and left before the evening meal was served. 

Stretching as he stepped into the sunshine of the back property, Eren made a beeline for the stables where Mikasa and Jean were already at work. Spying him from the loft, Jean threw down the pitchfork and clapped his hands. 

"Oh, thank god. I'm starving." After climbing halfway down the ladder, Jean jumped the rest of the way and dug into the basket. He was naked from the waist up, a sheen of sweat from morning labor already settled on his taut skin. "All this for me?"

"No, asshole, it's for everyone. In fact, go take this out to Reiner and the rest."

"Fuck you!" Jean snarled, stuffing a wedge of cheese in his mouth before ripping a piece of bread with his teeth to join it. "You do it, I'm hungry."

Mikasa came in from the tack room to peer into the basket of food. "You could take it out to Marco," she said in that soft, easy going voice. "I bet he'd be grateful to sit and have lunch with you."

Jean's eyes lit up like a fireworks display. Snatching the basket from Eren, Jean hauled it up on his naked arm and tittered. "It'd be like having a picnic."

"Just don't forget Reiner and Bertholdt, Rico and Annie!" Eren called, quick to grab a wrapped lunch for Mikasa before Jean scampered out to find his sweetheart.

"Yeah, yeah!" Jean called, already well on his way.

"Has Armin woke up?" Mikasa asked, taking the lunch Eren offered to her. He picked up a brush and went to give attention to Garnet, Petra's horse.

"Yeah, briefly." Eren said. "He'll be all right, he just needs to rest and settle in." 

"You look miserable, Eren," Mikasa observed, nibbling gently on her liverwurst and rye lunch. 

"I'm just worried. I want to protect him. 

"You can only do so much," Mikasa said, using her free hand to stroke Garnet's long face. Like her mistress, Garnet was a gentle horse; she did not even sniff at Mikasa's lunch. 

"I'm going to do everything in my power, what little there is of it."

 

* * *

 

Hours later, Jean returned to help them finish with the last set of tasks before they lost their light and turned in for dinner. There was a certain spring to Jean's step and a fresh layer of sweat that the honorary siblings knew had nothing to do with tending to the fields, but they kept their teasing to knowing looks as the trio got the horses settled for the evening. As he returned the bucket to the well after changing the horses’ water, Eren spied Marco wandering in from the far western pasture, flanked by his Great Pyrenees, who zipped back and forth between its master and the flock of polled heath sheep it was herding towards its enclosure. 

 

"Hey, Marco!" Eren called with a wave. Waving back, Marco then whistled for his dog to continue on while he waited for Eren to catch up to him. 

"Thanks for sending Jean with my lunch," Marco said with a devious glean in his brown eyes.  

"Yeah, I thought you could use some assistance."

"Oh, yes," Marco laughed. "All of that sheep minding I do, watching them graze for hours until I take them to another field."

"Okay, I thought you could use the company."

Marco tactfully said nothing, letting his reddened, freckled face and smile answer for him. Giving his friend a loving shove, Marco was about to continue with his task when Eren suddenly grew sober.

 "Mikasa told you guys everything." 

"Yeah," Marco said, stopping in his tracks. Casting a plaintive glance at Eren, Marco debated within himself before asking, "Why do you think the master chose you?" 

He echoed the very question Eren had been asking himself since last night. 

"Process of elimination," Eren concluded with a shrug and a wry grin. "You're too sweet, Millius is an unsympathetic little snot, Reiner and Bertholdt are nice, but," Eren and Marco again shared knowing look, a scarlet flush rising to both of their cheeks. "frightening upon first impressions. Jean is too aggressive, no offense." 

"No," Marco shook his head understandingly. "I know he is rough around the edges. He has a short fuse and would have only upset Armin further."

"Well, I'm no saint when it comes to my temper," Eren admitted. "But I managed to reel it in quick enough." He crossed his arms over his chest.

"And the girls?"

Eren shook his head. "Too intense or too sensitive. Mina and Christa would have outright cried to have been put in that situation."

"Mikasa would have been all right," Marco offered. 

"Depends on her mood. She could have just as easily sat there, stubborn as a mule."

They sat in pensive silence as Marco finished his meal. "When you said I'm too sweet…"

Eren smiled at his friend before reaching over to tousle his fine black hair. "You are. Sweetest out of all of us guys anyway. Our great, freckled mediator." A smile tugged at the corner of Eren's mouth. "You would have seen a bit too much of yourself in him. I don't think…I don't think you could have handled the situation."

Marco shyly bowed his head. 

"Am I an ass for saying that?" Eren asked, an apologetic grin on his face. Out of everyone, Eren could not bear to hurt Marco's feelings. Besides being the most kind-hearted among them, Marco was Eren's first male partner. Having gone through that last night, Eren felt especially grateful for Marco's remarkable tenderness. Although, Eren had known what to anticipate.  

"No," Marco reassured him, raising his head high again with the familiar smile, a beam of sunshine. "You're on the nose. I would have freaked, and Levi would have flipped. The. Fuck. Out." Eren laughed generously at this. "My guardian angel," Marco added with a conflicted sigh. "Although that doesn't excuse his behavior. Is it strange that for as long as I've been here, it's still a shock to me that Levi would be party to such horribleness?"

"Mmm, I'm not surprised, but then I don't have whatever bond you and Levi have." Eren said with a good-hearted chuckle and shake of his head. He loathed the icy Overseer, but understood that he and Marco had some history unknown to most of them.

Marco shrugged. "He's unapproachable and can be downright nasty at times, but, really, he's not unlike a big brother sometimes." He paused, suddenly melancholy. "Did you know I have a brother…had, I mean." 

"No, I didn't know," Eren replied neutrally, keeping a wary eye on his friend. Discussing their pasts was not something done lightly, as unpleasant memories wrought ill side effects.  

"He was the last of my family that I ever saw," Marco continued, his eyes lost in the past somewhere. Panic-stricken eyes as the space between them widened, distance gaining as if Marco had suddenly sprouted wings he could not control, taking him further and further away from everything and everyone he had ever known. What was his brother's name again? How old had he been? Hands and arms; hands and arms, clawing, snatching, ripping him away from everything and everyone he ever loved; his brother calling for him, running, trying to catch up but falling further and further into the distance.  

"Marco?" Eren sat rigid as Marco's breathing came in ragged gasps, his eyes bulging as his hand clutched his chest. "Breathe, Marco!" Eren twisted his head to see who was around. Blissfully, he recognized a short and rigid figure just stepping outside from the stables. "LEVI! IT'S MARCO!"

There was no hesitation; Levi moved like the wind, effortless and unrelenting. Eren was knocked over onto his side as Levi took over.

"Look at me, Marco," Levi's sharp voice remained as still as night, never giving in to any one particular emotion as he focused his entire being on the panic stricken boy.  "Look at me." Marco's empty eyes found Levi's steel irises. "Breathe. You're all right." He flicked an impatient glare at Eren. "Get him water, brat. Go quickly but don't cause any ruckus, and for fuck's sake don't tell anyone." 

Biting back a nasty glare and comment, Eren scrambled to his feet and dashed off across the field. Just as he passed the stables, Jean popped out, a worried expression on his face.

"Hey, Eren, where you going? Everything okay?"

Eren paused despite what Levi had told him. His breathing was ragged as he lifted his eyes to Jean's. Whatever Jean saw in them was enough; he dropped the bridle in his hands and jumped the fence of the stable yard, intent on running where Marco and Levi were.  

"No!" Eren cried, jumping on Jean, grabbing him around the midsection. They both went belly down hard. "Levi is with him and he will kill us both!"

"Fuck him, and fuck you; Marco needs me!"

"He needs space and peace and quiet!" Eren growled. "If you wanna be of use, go get him some fresh water from the well and clear your head. He doesn't need you to be in a panic, too!"

Jean stopped struggling. Eren recognized his defeat and released his companion. Offering a hand that Jean took, Eren swapped places, picking up the discarded bridle. When he looked over his shoulder, Jean was already gone.

"There now," Levi said, brushing a stray black hair out of Marco's eyes as the younger man's breathing returned to normal. "Welcome back."  

Marco wrenched his chin away from his grip, his eyes flashing with hurt Levi did not understand.

"What's this?" Levi asked. Though his voice never betrayed its usual apathetic timbre, one of his eyes twitched. A subtle but poignant hint of his inner emotion too small for even Marco to catch.

"Don't play games. Not with me." Marco pleaded, his voice exhausted. "That poor boy."

Levi was about to demand an explanation when Jean approached, a dipper of water in his hands. Marco drank from it gratefully, its cool and refreshing texture helping him reclaim his senses as the last bit of panic ebbed away. Jean and Levi exchanged hateful looks over Marco's head. 

"You should rest," Levi warned the freckled boy as Marco permitted Jean to help him rise to his feet. 

"I have work to finish," Marco said dully, patting Jean gratefully on the arm before heading off to tend to the flock. 

Casting the surly Overseer one last glare of daggers, Jean started in the direction of the stables before Levi called after him. Not trusting himself to keep a civil tongue, Jean simply looked at him with a raised brow. 

"Send Eren." 

 

* * *

  

"Levi wants to see you," Jean said gruffly, taking the brush out of Eren's hand. 

"Why?" Eren asked suspiciously. 

"Hell if I know; probably wants to question you." 

"Great," Eren sighed, dusting his hands off. "He probably thinks I triggered Marco." Eren started as he caught a glimmer of suspicion in Jean's eyes. "Jean! I didn't."

"I know," Jean sighed, his expression deflating into defeat. "I just…I tell him every night that I'll slay those dragons that keep him locked up." He tapped the side of his head. "Here. It's disheartening when I can't."

"You're his knight in horse shit stained, armor, Jean." Eren said, patting his friend on the shoulder. They shared a chuckle that broke the tension before Eren headed back to Levi.

"What?" Eren huffed, crossing his arms over his chest as he stood a very deliberate distance from the shorter man.

"Count to five."

Levi turned and walked away into the thick of the woods surrounding the property. Looking around him, Eren made sure that Marco was well off into the distance with the flock and that Jean and Mikasa were still inside the stables before stealing into the woods after Levi. 

They stood closer together, but no less tense than before.

"Why is Marco pissed at me?"

"I don't know? You want a list?" 

"It had something to do with the new brat."

"Oh, come on!" Eren hissed. "You have to even ask? That was fucked up, even for you."

Levi's steel eyes blazed with fury and a hint of confusion. "What? I made a crack at your little lamb's virginity last night, so fucking what? I hear the way you shitty brats taunt each other; that was nothing."

"Marco wasn't referring to that, although it does tie in rather tastelessly considering Armin was never told what his  _real_ purpose here is."

An eerie pause hefted between them. Levi's face betrayed nothing as he quickly processed what Eren had just revealed. He blinked, stoicism hardened.

"Not your place to question how shit is done." 

Eren rolled his eyes at that. He tensed as Levi took a confident step towards him, his usual apathetic expression replaced with a lewd smirk.

"Bet you loved it, though."

"Fuck off," Eren spat, his emerald eyes filled with poison.

"I bet sleeping beauty is still passed out?" Levi inquired, taking another step. "Too worn out from the plowing you gave him last night." 

"Shut the fuck up."  

Levi was standing directly in front of him, eyes glimmering with a knowing taunt. Eren willed his body to stop trembling, to betray nothing, to keep cool.

"Did you get him to cry out your name?" Levi asked in a low whisper. 

Eren closed his eyes, refusing to look at the other man.

_"Did you?"_

"…yes."

The triumphant smirk was audible through a soft puff of air, hot on Eren's skin.

"Go over to that low branch and bend over you slut." 

Obeying, Eren walked leaden foot to the low slung thick branch that came up to his midsection and bent over as he was told.

Hands pulled his breeches down to his thighs before taking his half-mast cock and working it to full hardness. Wincing as Levi leaned against his back, Eren shivered as he felt the other man's tongue run along the rim of his ear.

"What a hardship it must have been for you. Having the pain of explaining what's expected of him, but the reward of taking him first." 

Eren squeezed his eyes shut, though it did nothing to block out the truthful venom assaulting his ears. It was as if Levi had been listening to his thoughts since last night as he intimately knew Eren's inner turmoil. 

"You say this shit to Marco after he had me the first time?" Eren rasped in an attempt to sass back. Eren was astonished to feel genuine anger in Levi's hand as he choked his neck and pushed him down.

"Don't. You. Ever. Say. That. Again. You fucking  _whore_."

Eren managed a nod, gasping for breath when Levi released his iron grip. His relief was short lived as the raven haired man entered him quickly, staying pressed to his back and his hot breath on Eren's ear as he fucked him hard and fast.

"Don't lie to me, Eren. Tell me how good it felt. That impossibly tight heat of a virgin. A real luxury, considering your usual company?"

"…yes."

"I said tell me."

"He felt amazing," Eren forced out, holding back tears of shame as he admitted it out loud. "So tight…I never felt so fucking good."

"Too bad he's not gonna stay that way, eh?"

Eren could only whimper and nod.

"Don't cry. You got him first and if you did your job right, he's always gonna crave your cock the most."

Eren nodded again; his secret, selfish wish sounded so heinous when Levi spoke it so plainly. 

"Did you make him scream?"

"Yes," Eren huffed, feeling his build coming on. 

"Tell me."

"He….he rode my cock hard…despite not knowing how at first…"

"Fast learner, huh?"

"Very," Eren panted with a humorless laugh. "I held him close…I watched his face go from fright to bliss." 

_"Yes."_

"I…kept him for myself."

Levi pounded into him, trying to figure out what Eren meant. Sensing the other man's confusion, Eren continued.

"I…kept his face turned so only I could see his pleasure…and his climax."

Expecting a blow, Eren was astonished to feel the low rumble of deep laughter reverberating against his back. In a moment of - what? affection? - something, Eren felt Levi hook his arm around under his chin, holding his far shoulder as he delivered sharp, stimulating thrusts. Eren grit his teeth to hold back his own noises of pleasure.  

"Clever boy," Levi complimented.

Eren would have rolled his eyes at the insult were he not too busy getting an excellent pounding. This was easily the dozenth time in half as many months that he and Levi fucked. Eren never slept with his peers casually, but tension between him and the Overseer mounted to an all time high before exploding into a series of quick and heated trysts. Eren had no illusions about the whole sordid thing; Levi is still just as much of a heartless bastard as ever and there was no affection in the exchange whatsoever. They simply found means to let out whatever stressors drove them to each other in the first place. The fact that Levi took him as far away from the house as possible to get him alone let Eren know that he was just as forbidden to take liberties with his charges as Eren was to receive them.

Rocking against the young slave, Levi snapped his hips faster, relishing the way Eren struggled not to cry out. He jolted violently as one of Eren's hands snaked behind them, cupping his left thigh and buttock. 

"Don't fucking touch me there, you shitty brat!" Levi snarled, using his free hand to twist Eren's hand before forcefully thrusting it off of his persons. 

"Shit. Forgot." Eren genuinely did have a lapse in memory about the one place he was never to grab Levi (though he was never actually encouraged to touch the other man save when assisting with holding a position to be fucked in). Eren never pondered too deeply on the matter, figuring it was just one of those quirks the notorious control freak possessed. 

From the painful squeeze Levi gave his cock, Eren did not think the Overseer believed him.

"Ready to come?"

"Y-yeah."

"Good. Wasn't going to wait for you anyway."

Eren laughed humorlessly, knowing from experience this was entirely true.

"Give it to me."

"Close your eyes, Eren," Levi breathed in his ear. "Think about your little lamb and all of those sweet sounds of ecstasy he made especially for you." 

Eren did as he was told, the sound of Armin's pleasure cries echoing in his memory.

"… _because_  of you." 

"Mmm," Eren moaned, teetering on the edge of his orgasm. 

"Now envision his pure face…round cheeks flushed…his innocent eyes widen…as the realization dawns on him that...you're there to rape him." 

"NO, GOD, PLEASE!" Eren lamented, tears springing and overflowing down his face as he felt Levi fill him; his own body giving a hard, horrible release. The raven haired man released him, watching with cold eyes as Eren slumped to his knees, head bowed and chest heaving.

"You want to know why your master does the things he does, brat?" Levi asked coldly as he cleaned himself off with a kerchief from his back pocket before arranging himself. "To serve you a reminder: it doesn't matter if you're a virgin or a whore: life will fuck you no matter what." With a sneer Levi turned to leave. "Tell your little lamb come Monday he's in the stables with you and Mikasa." Levi glared over his shoulder. "See? You still get to be his shepherd after all."

 

* * *

  

Grateful he did not run into anyone on his way back to his room, Eren was quick to get into the bathing room he shared with Mikasa and wash away his shameful admissions. He couldn't even bring himself to hate Levi this time; the Overseer had been brutally honest, something Eren felt he deserved. Keeping a wary eye on the slumbering boy as he quietly dressed again, Eren took the chair from the Pembroke desk and brought it to the side of his bed. Taking hold of Armin's hand, he laced their fingers together, thinking on the promise he had made the blond boy. 

"Armin," Eren brushed golden fringe out of Armin's face. Azure eyes blinked open; the room was all but encased in darkness, save for the dim orange glow of the lamp on the desk. "Time for dinner." 

A frown crossed the younger boy's face. "Will there be others there?"

"Of course."

"I…I don't think I can face them right now."

"You don't have anything to be scared of, or ashamed of," Eren reassured him, continuing to pet the boy, void of his earlier confidence. "Everyone was new once."

"I just…I can't. Please, Eren. Not now…"

"Okay, don't worry. I'm going to go eat. I see you got up and had some food from the tray, but I'll bring you back some more food. Okay?" 

Armin nodded, pulling the covers up above his head as Eren turned to leave again.

 

* * *

 

"He's not coming," Eren said gruffly as he joined the others at their communal table. 

"Poor thing," Mina lamented, passing a bowl of roasted potatoes to her right. 

"Eren," Reiner began sternly. "You can't baby him." He shared a brief glance with Millius, who to his credit did not look smug as he cut into his food.

"I'm not babying him!" Eren insisted, passing over the greens, which Mikasa served on his plate anyway. "He deserves all the rest time can afford him."

"Tomorrow is Sunday," Bertholdt quietly reminded them. "It's an easy day; perfect for Armin to join us and get used to his surroundings." 

Reiner wouldn't push the matter anymore; if Bertholdt was moved enough to speak out and contradict him, it meant that was the end of the conversation. 

"Has he eaten?" Sasha inquired.

"A little, from the tray you sent. Thanks for that."

"Mmm. I know you want to bring him dinner, but maybe you can lure him out? Just a little? To the common room?"

Exasperated, Eren was about to argue but saw too many pairs of stubborn eyes set against him. Relenting under their gaze, Eren focused on his food. "I'll see what I can do."

 

* * *

 

The suggestion to come eat in the common room was met with skeptic look. Eren let Armin weigh the decision in his mind without any external influence on his part, though he remained tensed on the side of the bed, waiting on Armin's decision. 

"All right." Armin said meekly, sitting upright. Eren eased him to the side of the bed, though Armin gently pushed him back to show he could stand on his own two feet. His hand still clutched the blanket he'd been wrapped in, and sensing a moment of hesitation, Eren quickly took the blanket and wrapped it around Armin's shoulders. Sighing into its familiar comfort, Armin let Eren lead him out into the silent corridor, down the slaves’ staircase, across a hall and into the empty common room.

"Come on, let's go sit by the fire." Eren kept his arm around Armin's thin shoulders as he directed the younger boy inside. Squishing together in the overstuffed armchair, Eren made sure to wrap the blanket around Armin so he felt safe. "How's this?"

"Good," Armin admitted quietly, watching the flames snap and crackle. He felt something was amiss. "Why are we the only ones here?"

"Eren?" Mikasa called softly from the opposite end, peeping in from the kitchen. Armin automatically pulled back, ducking under the bulky blanket.  

"It's okay," Eren cooed to the blond boy. "All right, Mikasa. One or two at a time; he's skittish." 

It was difficult not to speak about Armin as if he were a cat, but Eren did not want the others to inadvertently spook the boy after having gotten him to wander out of the bedroom; even if he was lost in a sea of down feathers.

Mikasa disappeared, only to be replaced by Marco and Jean, hands clasped together between them as they approached tentatively. Marco's smiling freckled face was exactly Armin needed to see beaming down at him, Eren thought as he gently nudged down the blanket so Armin could greet the two boys.

"Hi, Armin, I'm Marco," Marco said in his easy going voice. "This is Jean."

"Hey there, pipsqueak."

"Jean!"

"What? Look, he's glaring at me. Good. Means he's got some fight in him."

"Honestly," Marco hissed at him before turning his sunshine back on full blast. "Pay him no mind, Armin. He just likes to hear the sound of his own voice."

"Hey, now,"

"This is for you," Marco interrupted, holding out a sprig of wildflowers. 

"Thank you," Armin said, taking the offered sprig, blinking up at them. Jean started, noting how wide Armin's impossibly blue eyes were. He felt a slight flush rise to his face, but was unable to look away.  

"Come on," Marco urged gently, tugging on Jean's hand before leading him to a corner of the room. The tug broke the spell; Jean happily following Marco as usual.

Ymir and Christa were next. 

"Hello!" Christa chirped in that honeyed voice. "I'm Christa, the housemaid. Ymir and I keep house. We're so glad to have you with us, Armin."

"Thanks," Armin murmured, looking away from her; she was almost too pretty. Her long fair hair reminded him of his mother. 

"Here." Ymir shoved a piece of paper at him. It held her name. "I got picked to name one of the new kittens, but you can do the honors. I guess."

The corners of Armin's mouth twitched upward. "Thanks."

Reiner and Bertholdt were next; the blond boy holding out a wooden puzzle made out of interlocked pieces. Raising his brows with definite interest, Armin sat up a little taller in his seat as he turned the hand carved puzzle in his hand. 

"Anyone gives you any trouble, Armin, just come find us," Reiner said good-naturedly. He ruffled Bertholdt's dark brown hair. "This one doesn't have a lot to say, but don't take offense, okay? He's just the strong, silent type."

"Shut up," Bertholdt hissed, punching Reiner squarely in the chest. Yanking the taller boy low enough to catch him in a headlock, Reiner chuckled at the newcomer, wide-eyed and unsure if they were serious. "Ha ha, see what I mean? I don't stand for bullies. Excuse me; I have to teach my friend here a lesson." 

Mina came next, handing Armin a pair of wool gloves. 

"You'd think since I'm the only laundress and seamstress in the house I wouldn't want to knit in my spare time," Mina said with a cheerful shrug. "But it's relaxing and makes nice presents."

"Part of the Mina's knitwear club now, Armin!" Reiner teased. "No going back."

Armin smiled at that, brushing his fingers against the soft wool, beautiful in its own naturally beige color. 

Sasha and Mikasa approached last, a plate of leftovers in Sasha's hands. Passing the platter to Eren as Armin settled his gifts on a table near to him, Sasha then introduced herself.

"You be sure to come to our Sunday lunch tomorrow," Sasha warned him. "You're our guest of honor." 

"Oh," Armin replied, unsure what that meant as he resisted the urge to hide under the blanket again. Eren sighed, despondent to see all of Armin's earlier spunk and fire extinguished. He gave a start as Mikasa snatch the plate out of his hands.

"Armin," she said firmly but in her soft voice. "I need you to sit up and wiggle out of those covers a bit more." She waited until he followed her demand. "Good. Now you may eat." She handed him his plate and silverware. Though her voice was even and could easily be described as soft spoken, there was definitely a firmness in it that let Armin know there was to be no arguing with her.  

"This is Mikasa," Eren said proudly as his honorary sister sat crossed-legged on the floor in front of them. "If you have problems, come to me or her."

"Better yet," Jean interjected from the corner where he had been canoodling with Marco. "Skip Eren, go straight to Mikasa. She'd just end up having to fix whatever mess Eren gets you deeper in."

A ripple of gentle laughter echoed in the common room, even drawing a guilty smile from Armin causing Eren to forgive Jean his unwanted commentary. 

"Eren," Armin noted under his breath, bright eyes darting around the room. "This is only nine. You and I make eleven."

"You'll meet Annie and Millius later," Eren murmured close to his ear. Armin understood instantly and said no more on the matter, keeping his attention to the food.

Armin slowly warmed up to the peaceful comforts the presence of the others offered, and soon fell into his usual observation mode. Naturally curious but painfully shy was not the ideal combination, and now more than ever before Armin felt the burden of his shyness. He wanted to know more about these people; this hodge-podge of personalities. Were they born into slavery, as he was? Were they serving a punishment for a crime; theirs, or their parents? What made them so at ease with one another? How did they feel about their bizarre situation? Witnessing his peers all so relaxed and natural with one another gave Armin hope that he, too, would come out of his shell and learn to smile with ease again. Still. No one had pressed him for details on his past, and Armin was tactful above all else. He would extend the same courtesy and remain patient as they were doing for him.

The night pressed on, and after several increasingly enthusiastic rounds of _bohnenspiel_  and a handful of intense games of cards - both which drew out the competitive monsters Reiner and Ymir, making lewd commentary that only embarrassed their partners - the evening began to wind down. A slow trickle began as the teenaged slaves took their leave. 

"Oops, almost forgot!" Christa remembered as she was about to head upstairs. "Armin, I fixed up your room." Her bright eyes met Eren's. "Hannah's old room." 

"Oh," Armin looked up at her, blinking stupidly before he remembered himself. "Thank you, Christa."

Spying the wariness in Armin's eyes, Eren gave the boy's shoulders a friendly squeeze. "Hey, you don't have to move in there if you're not ready. You're welcome to bunk down with me for long as you like."

Mikasa's cool brown eyes darted up at her honorary brother, but he was too focused on Armin to notice. Fidgeting with her red scarf for a moment, Mikasa then suddenly stood up and took the empty plate off of Armin's lap. 

"I'll go wash this for you."

"Mikasa, you don't have to," Armin started, but she had abruptly turned and disappeared down the dark hall that led to the slaves' kitchen. 

"She'll catch up with us," Eren said as he stood up and stretched, then offered a hand to Armin. "Let's go up."

"All right," Armin said, gathering his gifts into his pockets while clinging to the flowers with the same hand that clutched the blanket around him. Taking the offered hand, Armin bade goodnight to the few who remained in the common room before heading upstairs.

"Who is Hannah?" Armin asked once they reached the familiar hallway. Eren pressed his index finger to his lips, taking Armin past his bedroom and over to the door next to his. Opening it, Eren turned up the flame in the lamp Christa left for them as he entered the room. It was freshly clean, with new linens on the bed. It did lack the life Hannah had injected into it, though, and Eren sighed at the memories of Hannah singing in her room, her voice as clear as a trickling brook. 

"Hannah was a slave here," Eren explained, all but closing the door behind Armin before setting the lamp atop the armoire. Armin stepped further in, going to sit on the bed. He realized it was pushed against the wall the bedroom shared with Eren’s, and the other boy's bed was just on the other side. "She and Franz were both slaves but they were released just over a year ago."

"Released?" Armin repeated quizzically, twirling the flowers Marco and Jean gave him in his hand. "You mean they were sold?" 

"No, I mean the master officially freed them. They're still in service, but they're freed people now." Judging by the way Armin goggled at him, he'd never heard of such a thing. Eren gathered then that Armin must have been born a slave and not made one. "They were bought separately, but they fell in love here. We always teased them about being our married couple. Then, just over a year ago, they were officially freed. Franz is a hired laborer on a commercial farm and Hannah spins yarn for the farm's stall at Market Square. They're expecting a baby now."

"I've never heard of such…compassion."

Eren shrugged, not as easily convinced it was an act of pure altruism. "I think we were getting a little crowded, to be honest. They're older, close to twenty-two by the time they left, and Thomas, Hitch and Samuel were still with us, and Millius just arrived." Eren paused to digress. "He was an unexpected addition. Even Levi, our Overseer, didn't predict Erwin bringing home a proper whore."

"A what?" Armin gasped. 

"Millius came from a very reputable brothel. At least, he insists it's one of the most elite in the country. He had a huge falling out with the mistress, though, and in a fury she sold him. That's all I know about it, but once you talk to him for a little bit…well, it's obvious he is different from the rest of us."

Armin did not like the implication that perhaps this boy was treated differently for the simple fact that he reveled in his trade; everyone deserved an opportunity for friendship as far as he was concerned. 

"What about the other three you mentioned?"

Eren looked away, a pained expression on his face. "They'd been here longer, older by a couple of years than us. Ymir is the oldest now at eighteen. But there were lots of fights with sixteen of us, our ages going from fourteen to twenty-one… petty jealousies, lots of bad blood. Franz and Hannah were freed; Thomas volunteered to be given to the military." Eren grimaced. "The government requires a pledge from all households every five years. I guess someone even of Erwin's prestige isn't immune to it." 

"I'm acquainted with the custom," Armin sighed. "My master tried to get rid of me that way initially a year and a half ago, but," Armin's face flushed in embarrassment. "They wouldn't take me because I didn't physically pass their qualifications."

"I'm glad you didn't go," Eren offered. "We don't expect to see Thomas ever again." A heavy silence weighed in on them.

"Hey, Armin," Eren said suddenly, sitting on the bed next to Armin, covering his hand lightly with his own sun-tanned hand. "D'you wanna stay with me again tonight?"

Armin laced their fingers together, enjoying the squeeze Eren's hand gave his. 

"If it's not a bother."

"It isn't." 

Their eyes locked on each other, the flickering flame of the lamp cast dancing shadows across their faces. Armin brought his lips to Eren's; sweet, nearly chaste and all too brief. Armin was closing the blanket around his shoulders and on his feet before Eren could digest the kiss; he followed Armin out of the room, extinguishing the lamp with him before closing the door behind him. 

 

* * *

 

Pale moonlight illuminated Levi's sleeping form. He lay above the covers half undressed, only his long white shirt with a couple of top buttons undone remaining. His crooked arms lay to the side of and slightly above his head. A cup sat on the nightstand; the honey blanketing the leftover aroma of the pungent valerian oil. Whether this was an intentional 'fuck you' or not remained to be known; Levi's motives were never the most transparent. 

Somewhere lost in drug addled slumber, Levi was aware of a cool heat as his body was pulled down on the bed, knees raised and legs parted. Though it was only his cock that disappeared into wet, cavernous heat, the tranquilizer effect of the drought made him feel like his whole body had been enveloped by that skilled, velvet mouth. His arms twitched as his breath picked up; one arm spasmed, accidentally smacking himself before flopping down in the fine golden hair of his assailant. 

He was unsure his own desire at this point, but he did not mind the ministrations being done to him, willing arousal despite his heavily drowsy state. Past experience had already taught him that his stubborn lover would take him regardless of incapacitation. Levi didn't begrudge him; he always returned the favor in due course, and his vengeance always had more flair, anyway. 

It took a while, but once Levi was adequately erect, his legs were hoisted up away from his body, which remained flat on the bed. The first thrust inside him rocked his eyes open, heavily lidded with the feeling of iron weighing them down. Subsequent thrusts gave the rest of his body a free falling sensation, as if the security of the bed beneath him had been winked away. He felt pressure, like a boulder crushing his chest as body weight eased down on him, his knees by his ears now as thrusts were deepened, perfectly angled in its intent to stimulate his prostate. 

"Are we angry?" Erwin's smooth, deep voice asked above Levi's face.

"Mm," Levi replied, closing his eyes again to just enjoy the sensation of getting fucked. Erwin liked to fuck hard but slow, while Levi typically desired a more ferocious pace. Tonight, though, in his drought induced stupor, Levi did not mind the former. Strong fingers turned his face forward; warm breath tickled just under his long nose.

"Are. We. Angry?"

Prying his eyelids open once again, Levi blinked several times before giving up on single vision.

"Marco…s'upset." Even under the haze of the valerian oil, Levi's steel eyes flashed something at Erwin. "Found out…new brat...shenanigans."

Erwin's only reply was to remove Levi's legs from his shoulders, placing them together before twisting them to the right of Levi's body as he continued to fuck the raven haired man harder and deeper. Cold blue eyes stared at Levi's left ass cheek, loving the way firm, pert flesh dimpled with every thrust. Arms on either side of Levi as he hovered over his chiseled body, Erwin lowered his lips to his lover's flushed cheek, relishing the sound of his labored panting. 

"And what did you tell Marco?"

Levi's fingers twitched; he wanted to grab on to Erwin's neck for anchorage as he fucked himself on the other man's dick. Unfortunately, his aim with the valerian root was true and he remained virtually immobilized.  

Even under his haze, Levi managed a decent snort. "Reminded him his place." 

A hand over his cock, squeezing it to almost pain; swifter thrusts, stimulating him to the brink. 

Lips against his ear. "Doubtful."

"So chatty," Levi sassed with a deep rumble of non-humor. For that he was jerked faster and fucked to the hilt, deep and shallow so there was no savoring, just constant stimuli, determined to draw out the orgasm Levi had tried to deny him.

But climax he did, right on cue as he was filled. He never got used to the sensation of being filled while under the effect of valerian; like having his cock sucked, it was as if Erwin came inside his head, right down to his toes. Cool air hit him as the body above him rolled off and to the side; fabric gently rustling as he realized he was being covered by the coverlet before two strong arms wrapped themselves around him, pulling him close against the heartbeat he knew better than his own. As Levi drifted back off to a dreamless void, he was surprised that he no longer found himself melancholy. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gah! I am such a twisted human being; why do I do these things to the characters I love so dearly? *head desk*
> 
> Anyway, if you're still hanging on, thank you for reading, commenting, subscribing and/or leaving kudos!


	4. Playing Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter length is shorter to make it easier on myself and my poor beta. I've nothing really to add except enjoy!

Everyone looked forward to Sunday, the day of rest. The entire household enjoyed a reprieve from the day in and day out of their stressors. Even the household was not known to rise before ten, unless some special excursion had been planned for. It was the day for leisure pursuits, where the teenaged slaves were permitted to forget their daily toil and enjoy the benefits and wonders of youth. Sasha still had food to prepare, but everyone was more than happy to pitch in on Sundays. She didn't seem to mind; her leisure pursuits were all in the kitchen anyway.

Their other guardians were more prevalent on Sundays; Levi all but disappearing wherever he squirreled away on Sundays. However, their master was much more visible as it was the one day he adamantly refused to conduct business, either in his library, or the morning room where the kids were allowed to bring him their thoughts, concerns and quibbles. He listened to all of them in that pensive way, and gave the best advice in as few words as possible. Problem solving seemed to be his forte, and when he could help, he did. Erwin marveled at how much could fester or trouble his slaves. Not much of anything went on without his knowledge, and yet these precious lives in his grasp still managed to wiggle their way into dramas and comedies of their own making. 

Sometimes he invited Christa to show off her talents in voice, or Millius at the piano. It was also not unheard of for Erwin to sit with Millius in the conservatory as the boy painted by the hour until he gently but firmly had to be urged to interact.

Armin was not surprised to find himself awake and alert while Eren and Mikasa continued to sleep on; he had more sleep since arriving at his new household than six month's worth of sleep at his former home. Carefully and quietly dislodging himself from the corner he was wedged in, Armin managed to get off the bed and find his day clothes without waking the other two. With a cautious peek into the corridor, Armin then stole off towards the direction Eren had led him last night. The common room was empty, but still just as friendly in its silent disuse. Following sounds beyond the room, Armin found his way into the large, bright and bustling kitchen where Sasha was already up and at 'em.

"Good morning, Armin!" Sasha chirped as soon as she spied him hovering in the threshold between their dining area and the kitchen proper. "You're up early for Sunday."

"It's so quiet," Armin noted. "Is it like this every Sunday?"

"Just about. It's nice, because I only have breakfast and Sunday lunch to worry about and I get to experiment all by myself." She motioned for him to draw up a stool to her wooden chopping block table in the center of the kitchen. As he did so, Sasha placed a bowl of porridge with dried fruit on the side, cream and honey. 

"Are you not alone here usually?"

"I have two girls who help me every other day, except Sundays. They're a big help, and they follow direction well, it's just," A strange look crossed her usually cheerful face. "We're not keen on outsiders here."

Armin stored that away in his memory, along with his other observations in this strange household. 

"You've been here a long time?" Armin cautiously ventured, getting the sense that Sasha really took pride in her place. 

"My whole life," Sasha said immediately. "My mother was a kitchen maid here; my family was a tenant on the property. I helped out wherever they would let me, always being underfoot." Her shoulders shook with mirth at the memory of it. "My father, however, was a gambling man and never knew when to walk away. His debts grew too big for his purse and it was either debtors, prison, or a knife in the darkness. Master Erwin cleared his debts in the exchange for me." Sasha shrugged. "It was the less shameful option for my mother, who worked here already. Nobody need know outright that I was a slave rather than a servant. They died in the pox epidemic when I was ten and I lived here permanently since."

Armin looked into his bowl, nearly all eaten. "I'm sorry about your parents. I lost my mom to the big flu that swept through the country three years ago." Armin did not enjoy ruining his meal with talk about his parents, but Sasha had been so open about her past, he felt obligated to return the favor. "Your story is similar to my mother's, in fact. She was the daughter of my former master's nursemaid. She grew up there." _And died there_ , Armin thought bitterly.

"So you were born there, too," Sasha worked together as she began to fix up a breakfast tray for two. "That's strange; having been there your whole life and then suddenly sold."

Armin offered her a shy smile in response, not wanting to get into any more details. He still had a long day of getting to know so many new people. Thankfully, she did not press him, focusing on the finishing touches of the breakfast tray instead. "There! I only make a tray for two slaves, and only on Sundays. Armin, would you kindly take this to Reiner and Bertholdt's room? I bet they'll be awake soon."

"Sure," Armin said, taking his bowl to the large copper sink first. "Why only them?"

"They do most of the physical labor outside," Sasha explained. "Don't get me wrong; no one has it _easy_ here; we all put in our share. But they make sure we have our game, fish and vegetation. From sowing to reaping, we're all fed because they work the fields. So they get a special thanks from me before I assemble trays for the ups."

"That's nice," Armin said, going over to the tray and lifting it. "Just tell me which room and I'll be on my way."

 

* * *

 

Being quiet by nature allowed Bertholdt the luxury of being able to observe others without their knowing, even the one who knew him best of all. As he lay partially propped up by the bolsters, the tall young man stared down at his slumbering lover. It was only in these quiet moments when he felt free to openly admire his best friend; Reiner's noble lion face that seemed so fierce even in their youth but could express an astonishing gentility when prompted; his white-blond hair that Bertholdt loved to brush against his nose and cheek as he did now; and of course those powerful arms that held him so tenderly against the broad chest. Unable to keep his fingers from tracing the outside of Reiner's ear, Bertholdt inadvertently roused the other boy.

"Mornin'," Reiner's gruff morning voice came as he rubbed away his sleep on Bertholdt's chest. The taller boy squirmed from ticklishness before wrapping his arms tightly around the blond young man, pleading for mercy through a series of titters.

"Stop, stop! Okay, good morning to you! I give up!"

Satisfied, Reiner reached up to cup the back of Bertholdt's head before bringing him downward for a kiss.

A knock on their door jolted them.

"Hello?" Reiner called curiously.

"Hello," came a reserved, slightly unfamiliar voice. "Sasha sent up some breakfast for you."

"Who is that?" Bertholdt whispered against Reiner's ear.

As if sensing their confusion, Armin added, "It's Armin, by the way." 

"Oh!" Two voices cried in unison.

"Come on in- ack! Bertl, what are you doing?"

"No, no, wait a second, Armin!"

Armin stood outside the bedroom door, unsure what to do. Several thuds and noises of discomfort as frantic shuffling around the room kept the younger blond from making any moves until finally the door was opened with an out of breath Bertholdt on the other side, stepping aside to allow Armin in.

"Good…morning," Armin said cautiously as he took a hesitant step inside. Reiner was sitting on the edge of the bed in his night braise, his legs swung over the side and a very visible red hand print on his chest where he had been smacked.

"Sorry about that," Reiner said with a smirk as he opened his hands to receive the breakfast tray. "Bertholdt suddenly came down with a case of shyness and felt the need to shield you from his sinfully good looking body."

"Reiner!" Bertholdt hissed, slapping his friend on his bicep as he stepped onto the bed and plunked down at the far end. The blond just chuckled at his friend’s modesty before handing him his share. Armin felt like an intruder; the older boys were clearly bunking together for a reason different from Eren and Mikasa.

"Enjoy your breakfast," Armin said, turning to head out.

"Oh, you don't have to go," Reiner said casually, without looking up from his plate. "Pull up a chair, keep us company."

Armin's eyes darted to the quieter boy, but his attention was on his breakfast, face impassive. Armin was curious about everyone in the household, and when would he have another opportunity? Spying a wooden chair in the corner, littered with clothes, Armin went over and brought it slightly closer to the center of the room.

"Just chuck those clothes on the floor," Reiner said dismissively. 

"You really need to clean your room," Bertholdt commented under his breath.

Reiner gave a noncommittal noise in response. "You don't like it, you can clean it up or move into your room."

"Oh," Armin blurted before he could stop himself. "You have your own room, then?"

They both looked up at him, and Armin wished a hole would open up beneath him to suck him away from the embarrassment he felt.

"Yeah, but he's never used it, not once," Reiner said with a snort and smirk, thumbing over his shoulder at the taller boy. "Not even when he or I come down with a nasty cold."

Bertholdt merely shrugged as he dug into the ham on his plate. "I've never spent a day or night in my life without Reiner."

 _Odd_ , thought Armin. Bertholdt did not strike him as the type to embellish like that, though Reiner was empathetically nodding in agreement.

"Really?"

"Yup," Reiner said between bites. Setting his plate down and finish his mouthful, he then launched into an explanation. "We're one day off from being five months apart. I was born first; the first of August. I was a right wobbler; I squalled and squalled something fierce. My poor mother didn't know what to do. Bertholdt was born to her friend who lived with her, in the dead of winter, during a howling blizzard. My mother assisted her, and of course I was there, squalling in my cradle like a right bastard. So Bertholdt is born, but it’s so cold and dark. They wrap him up and put him in the cradle next to me. What do you know; I stopped crying! They kept him with me for warmth, and for me the center of gravity. We've never slept a night apart."

It was almost too perfect, and Armin would have remained skeptical were it not for Bertholdt's reddened cheeks. No. Reiner had told him the truth, for sure.

"Are you local, Armin?" Reiner asked suddenly. Bertholdt looked up from his plate, a tense expression in his eyes.

"Yes, relatively so. I'm from a big dairy farm about…oh, I think Hanji told me it's forty-five kilometers to the west."

"Hmm," Reiner mused. "Can't say I'm one for the rank of cattle, myself. Really clogs up the sinuses, you know? 

"Yeah," Armin said with an appreciative chuckle.

"Where have you been assigned, Armin?" 

"Stables, with Eren."

"Oh," Reiner raised his brow bemusedly, looking over his shoulder at Bertholdt to share a look. "Is that so? They only need three in there. Jean will be pleased."

"Poor Marco," Bertholdt commented.

"He'll lose those sheep to the wolves within a week," Reiner chuckled.

Armin felt he was missing in on something. "I'm sorry…?"

"Jean has been begging Levi to reassign him to the fields so he can 'help' Marco, but he's more of a distraction to Marco than anything. With you now in the stables, though, it may seem like master Erwin stepped in and got weary of Jean's whining."

"As long as he won't be upset that I'm replacing him."

"No," they replied in unison. 

"Even Eren will be happy; he and Jean are like oil and water with each other most of the time."

"I see." Armin spied their empty plates and stood up. "May I take those for you? I'm going to head back to the kitchen and see where else I can go today."

"Thank you," Bertholdt replied, handing his plate and cutlery to Reiner to put on the tray and hand to Armin.

"You can explore the entire grounds; they're very expansive and rich," Reiner said. "You're welcome to go as far up to the woods on the back hill before you'd need an escort. We're completely surrounded by the woods, and the stream that trickles in from the lake to the north. If you venture out the front, just be sure not to go beyond the bridge. The house is pretty much up for exploration, save for the west servants’ quarters and the third floor west wing."

"All right," Armin noted, not really wanting or frankly needing to know why. "Thanks for letting me sit for a spell. Oh, and thanks again for the puzzle. I'll give it a go later." 

"No, no, thank you," Reiner said, getting up to open the door for the slighter boy, who had his hands full. "Give Sasha our gratitude and let her know we'll try to catch her a nice mackerel today."

"Will do." Armin promised as he left.

After shutting the door, Reiner turned and looked at Bertholdt, a brow raised. "Well?"

"Eren said he's sixteen, but..."

"He's just small for his age, that's all."

They became quiet again, trying not to let their thoughts wander down the path they knew they'd have to inevitably face.

 

* * *

 

After another trip to the kitchen, Armin decided to wander around the house, keeping close to the slaves’ quarters in case someone came to reprimand him. It was an unusually quiet household, but he had been warned that Sundays were oddly peaceful. Keeping to the ground floor, Armin meandered through a back corridor that connected the slaves' quarters and the main house. Sunlight poured in from an open archway; following it, Armin found himself in a glass encased conservatory. It was so bright from morning light, lively and attractive with plants, both local and exotic, flowers in shades of colors Armin never saw before. A large white cage housed two finches, which he peered at curiously. They seemed happy enough, with a cage so big, yet Armin felt sad for them regardless.

"You must be Armin."

Whirling towards the voice, Armin's eyes fell on a boy sitting with his back towards him, an easel with a canvas in its frame in front of him, a folding table with a palette dabbed with many colors to his left and jars of water with rags behind the colors. 

"Yes," Armin replied, taking a curious step forward. "How did you know?"

"Nobody ever comes to see me here," the boy said casually, without a trace of self pity. "Except for master Erwin, but I know his step." The boy turned to look at Armin just as the new boy approached on his right. Ice blue eyes bore into him, sizing him up. A bored face with a long, narrow nose regarded him before he said decidedly, "I see I'm to have competition."

"Excuse me?" Armin inquired worriedly. Oh, no. More secrets.

"Nothing, I just forgot myself for a moment. Of course nobody here is petty like that." He gave a head toss to remove the white blond fringe that fell into his eyes. "I'm Millius."

"Oh! Pleased to meet you."

"Pleasure is all mine," Millius said with a slight head bow. It seemed too formal for people of their station, but Armin recalled what Eren had told him of this boy's past. Niceties probably came natural to him.

"What are you painting?" Armin asked, peering closer at the canvas.

"Orchids," Millius replied. "The most highly coveted of ornamental plants, if I do say so. They represent love, luxury and exotic beauty." Millius smirked over his shoulder at Armin. "Clearly a self-portrait."

Armin chuckled in appreciation of the jest. Millius nodded in approval. "Oh, good. You do have a sense of humor. Eren led us to think you were some sort of delicate little primrose we had to tiptoe around."

"Well," Armin considered, tapping his fingers on his chin as he stared at the canvas. "I was plucked." 

A wide smile spread across Millius' face as he peered at Armin, one eye again obscured by white blond hair. "We're going to get along just fine, you and I." 

Curling his blond hair around one ear as he grinned in response, Armin took a moment to look around the airy space, his sheltered eyes having never seen so many exotic plants.

"Oh, that's for you, by the way," Millius said offhandedly, gesturing with his paintbrush at a small canvas lying face up on a white wrought iron table by the windows. Going over to it, Armin picked it up to see a scenic seascape; a rocky beach viewed from high above, with a body of water in so many shades of blue Armin did not even know existed. The setting sun in the background played on the surface of the water, adding yellows and greens to mingle with ultramarine, cobalt, turquoise and so much more. 

"Thank you," Armin said, awestruck by all of the details.

"It's the ocean," Millius explained. "From what I recollect of it."

Armin had never seen anything beyond the river that ran through the village closest to the farm he had been born to be a slave to. Going by the painting alone, the ocean looked so impossibly big. Armin had only ever heard of the ocean before.

"They tell you where I'm from?" Millius asked casually, peering over at him. Armin thought about playing dumb for a split-second before nodding in honesty.

"My mother was the Favorite to the duke. I grew up in a grand house near the ocean, a _proper_ estate," He added as if to imply Erwin's manor home was hovel by comparison. "When a plot to assassinate the duke and all of his heirs was uncovered, though, my mother and I had to flee. She managed to get me to the house she had trained at." He gave Armin a wry smile. "There I was privately tutored in recitations of ballads, plays, poems; learned to play the clavichord, paint, engrave and excel the art of conversation. I was being groomed to follow the life of a courtesan, to catch the eye of a noble man or woman. I took an interest and was an apt pupil." Millius sighed as if he had been holding in his story along with his breath for quite some time.

"My mother loved the duke, and he loved her. They were killed together, at dinner I was told. I always imagine the look of horror on my mother's face, realizing she would not be eating beyond the fish course." Millius' lips twitched in a weak grin at that. "My mistress saw the end to a great source of income and no reason to keep me. She sold me to a brothel - a reputable one that serviced only the upper class, but not quite where I intended myself to be." Millius sighed again, angrily smoothing down his hair. "I thought if I'm going to be some common whore, I'm going to be the best fucking whore and the highest earner in my house. Which, I do not mind confessing, I was." He paused again, lost in thought. 

"Then how…?" Armin asked, too caught up in the strange boy's even stranger story to let it stand as is.

"Did I end up here?" Millius finished for him. "I was the favorite of a nobleman. Lower-ranking, a bought title, not by blood, but still wealthy. He paid my mistress oodles of money to be equally pampered, mostly by me of course. He wanted to take me away from the house, buy me outright. I refused, thinking of the future of my career." Millius winced at his own words. "Thinking…the grass will be greener if I wait it out; got a little older, refined my skills and was introduced to even higher society. Pride, Armin. My pride and ambition got in the way of my freedom." He shook his head knowingly. "I thought he would accept the rejection gracefully and continue to be my patron. Hah. Let me tell you, Armin; the higher up they are, the harder they fall. He was in such displeasure with me, he caused a public scene. I was humiliated in front of other patrons, my peers and, worse, my mistress. She was so wounded by the scene that she turned me out immediately." Another sigh. "Our master found me at the auction block by week’s end."

Studying the boy, Armin felt unsure how to respond to the bizarre tale. They lapsed into a comfortable silence instead, Armin dividing his attention between all of the plants and other exotica in the conservatory, and the soft, soothing sounds of brushstrokes against canvas. He was jarred out of the relative peace and quiet when he heard his name being called down the hall.

"Armin!"

Turning just as Eren strode into the brightly lit conservatory, Armin held up his gift to show his friend. "Look what Millius painted for me. Isn't it beautiful?"

The brunet and white-haired blond boy eyed one another, Armin between them. Armin seemed to be in excellent spirits, relaxed and far more open than he had been around the others yesterday. Eren had been fearful Millius would say something off color to Armin, or arrogant and priggish. Eren would never forgive the other boy if his bawdy commentary spooked Armin and all of the progress he was making. His worry seemed for naught. 

"Ilse brought us a surprise," Eren said, motioning with his head back towards the kitchen. "Come on."

"Want to join, Millius?" Armin asked automatically. The fair haired boy shook his head with a small smile. 

"No, thank you. I have this vision in my head and I must have it captured on canvas before I lose my light." He pointed with the end of his paintbrush. "You can leave your painting where it was. I am sure it is not yet dry in full."

Heeding his advice, Armin set the painting down before allowing himself to be dragged out of the conservatory by Eren. Back through the kitchen, Eren continued into a mud room before leading him through an open door into the expansive yard. Blinking as he stepped into the late morning sunlight, Armin spied Mikasa, Mina, Jean and Marco in a semi-circle around a leggy brunette woman. In her hands were a number of brown diamond shaped objects with tails on the ends of them in ribbons.

"Kites!" Armin declared, delighted by the surprise as much as his new companions were.

"I picked them up last week," Ilse explained, handing one for Marco and Jean to share, another for Mina and Mikasa and the last one for Armin and Eren. "I've just been waiting for a good wind on a sunny day to blow our way." Turning it over in his hands, Armin examined the object. It was very light for its size, with the brown diamond surface made out of sturdy paper braced with a wooden cross. Fishing string secured it to a large wooden spool with more fishing string wound around it. He had seen kites before, when they were all the rage with his former master's children. They took them along to the many festivals of in spring and summer, but would either come back in tears after one had caught up and tangled in a tree or lost interest by fall.

"If we asked Millius very politely, I'm sure he'd let us use his pastels to decorate them," Mina suggested.

"Fuck it," Jean said, unwinding some string. "I don't need mine to be pretty, I just need it to fly."

"Well, don't wreck them on their first flight, Jean," Ilse warned. "They're for everyone to share and I'd like for them to last through the summer."

With a whoop, Jean sped off down the field, kite raised high above his head as Marco was left hanging on to the spool.

"Come on, Armin! Mikasa!" Jean called, already disappearing high up on the hills.

"I don't run very fast," Armin confessed with a sheepish grin. 

"I do," Mikasa said, turning to take theirs and run off in the same direction Jean went in. "You hang onto the spool with Eren. Come on, Mina." 

Mina took off just behind Mikasa, Ilse holding on to the third kite.

"Here we go, quick!" Eren said as he quickly thrust the spool into Armin's hands but kept his hands atop Armin's as he stood behind the boy, waiting to brace him once Mikasa got their kite into the air.

"Is there enough string?" Armin cried, unable to even see Mikasa anymore.

"We'll find out," Eren chuckled just as a breeze swept through, rustling the grass and tickling their hair. A moment later and one, two, three kites rose high into the air. With a triumphant yelp, Eren squeezed Armin's hands as they maneuvered the kite and kept its balance high up above the tree tops.

 

* * *

 

Smoke swirled around Levi's face as he watched the charmingly quaint scene below unfold. Nostalgia threatened to tug him back into a rose-hued past, but Levi kept the memories at bay with his signature mercurial temperament.  
  
 _Kites. Erwin, you're such a sap._  
  
It wasn't a proper window seat, but being a man of a certain stature, Levi easily converted it into one. It was the ideal window overlooking the main backyard, part of the stable yard, and the first field before the orchard obscured his view in the distance. He never minded his charges on Sundays; this was his one day to hide in his private quarters and pretend they did not exist. Though that in and of itself was an exercise in futility. With so many of them under his wing again, they were always lurking in his thoughts. Thirteen little tumors all of his own. Not really his thankfully.

 _Well._ Levi's eyes fell on Marco, his freckled face beaming as he held tightly to his spool. _I lay claim to one._

Despite having zero responsibilities for the teens on Sundays, Levi continued to watch from the comfort of his window ledge, one wrist supported on a crooked knee, a small trinket clutched tightly in his hand. How and when the bric-a-brac vendor at the Market Square came upon it would remain a mystery to him, but his prime concern was not the item's past, but its future.

Pretending not to hear the familiar padding of bare feet on the carpet approaching him, Levi took another puff and exhaled before quickly slipping the small item in his hand into his dressing gown pocket. Arms wrapped around his waist and a strong chin rested itself on his shoulder as he set down his black and silver cigarette holder.

"Kites, Erwin? Really? They're not five."

Erwin's smug smile retaliated all the answer Levi needed. Nuzzling close to Levi's neck, Erwin inhaled the fresh scent of cleanliness still lingering on Levi's freshly washed skin. The Overseer had not even bothered to dress yet, having exited the bathing chamber in his dressing gown right as he heard the commotion outside.

"Plans?" Erwin inquired.

Picking up his cigarette holder again, Levi raised his brows in thought before replying. "Sit here a while. Contemplate homicide. Abandon all thoughts and urges of getting dressed. Smoke until my lungs are as black as my heart." 

"Are you not missing an item or two from your itinerary?"

"What might they be?" Levi asked before taking a particularly large puff of his cigarette.

"Your punishment."

Turning his head to stare heavily at his lover, Levi let the smoke blown into Erwin's face speak for him. Erwin, the insufferable bastard, merely smiled. 

"That all?" Levi asked, one thin brow quirked.

"Perhaps."

Tilting his chin up as he kept his gaze focused on Erwin, Levi merely puffed on his cigarette, waiting.

"Go to the corner."

Extinguishing his cigarette on the ash-stained silver plate beside him, Levi then slid off the high ledge, straightened and retied his black robe before reaching the far corner of his bedroom. _Hello, corner. We meet again._

Erwin was directly beside him, an egg held between his thumb and index finger. Placing it in the familiar position between Levi's forehead and the wall, Erwin stood back with a flicker of satisfaction before he said plaintively, "Three hours."

Levi did not even spare the blond man a side glance as Erwin left him to his punishment.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're still hanging on, thank you for reading, commenting, subscribing and/or leaving kudos! They mean the world to me.


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